Tracey adds:

... Taryn (the woman in the car) watched the mutt closely. One eyebrow raised. Foot poised above the brake pedal. She did not like the dog and the feeling was reciprocated. Having already experienced one seat-staining sign of this animosity, she was very wary of the smug look on the dog's face. Should that furry leg have the slightest quiver suggesting the mere thought of a lift, Taryn's foot would be hitting the pedal. Hard.

It wasn't her dog; the owner, (her neighbour), decided to visit a friend in Paris and had deposited said animal on her doorstep with a note detailing her expensive diet (and no money). It was an ugly dog with a head too small for a Maltese and a body too large for a Staffie - its mother was a purebred Maltese poodle and the father was whatever happened to jump over the fence one unfortunate Sunday (Taryn had a suspicion it was a large, imbred rat). However, the owner, as dim-witted as the mutt, had cultivated its delusion that it was sired by only purebreds. A half truth. Subsequently, all mirrors in the house had been raised above the dog's line of sight.

Suddenly, metal grating as abrasive as the yapper's yap, should it yap as it had yapped when yapping previously, shredded her ear drum.