It was all a big misunderstanding. When Vern told Sparky and I about wolves””about how they’re the sole ancestors of modern dogs like us and that therefore every dog has an inner-wolf””he was, of course, speaking figuratively about the fragility of domestication and whatnot. Sparky, however, became convinced that if he got hungry enough, and tried really hard, he would (according to Vern) magically unleash the skilled hunter and apex predator he’d always known was inside of him. Newsflash puppies: You never know until you try. Don’t get me started. Consequences aside, what happened next was a remarkable display of ambition and commitment. That’s how we did things back then. Sparky avoided breakfast by staying in the backyard””instead of eating he practiced lunging, fiercely, at imaginary ungulates. Mrs. Baxter, surprised that my pal didn’t charge inside fifteen minutes early to begin reminding everybody that it was almost time to chow down, didn’t panic right away. But when 11:00 rolled around and Sparky still hadn’t touched his breakfast bowl, she purposely placed some of Mr. Baxter’s leftover tacos on the edge of the counter and pretended they were unattended in hopes Sparky would do what he usually did. But he didn’t. Before I continue, I feel it’s important to remind everybody that low blood sugar can happen to anybody. It’s a phenomenon that transcends species not to mention grit, character, ambition, commitment and the numerous other attributes my pal, under normal circumstances, possessed in spades. Don’t get me started. By lunchtime Sparky had completely lost it. Indeed, he’d become inflexibly certain that only the still-warm flesh of a zebra and/or moose would satisfy his now heightened demand for wild protein. Of course, no one could have predicted that on that particular day the electric company would be performing maintenance on the neighborhood’s power lines. Nor could anyone have predicted that the company’s hardworking men and women would pause in front of the telephone pole across the street from Mrs. Baxter’s house and order two large pizzas from Fratellis for lunch. I suppose it goes without saying that, furthermore, nobody could have anticipated Sparky””in a delirious fit of self-inflicted hunger”” smelling the aforementioned pizzas from a block away, wriggling through the hole in the fence and dashing head-on into the street thereby causing the pizza delivery man, Mr. Fratelli, to swerve and crash, at tremendous expense to his automobile insurance provider, into the whole high-voltage operation. Don’t get me started. The first thing Mr. Fratelli did was make sure Sparky was okay. The first thing Sparky did was climb into the backseat of Mr. Fratelli’s car and eat every last slice of pizza, including some of the bag that kept them hot. In the end, nobody got seriously hurt and the neighborhood’s lights came back on the following morning. Which reminds me of the time Mrs. Baxter told me that, even though she loves him very much, Sparky might have to go live on a farm.