Ernie Gravnick opened the front door to his apartment and his cell phone starred a round of dog barks. He had changed sirens for barks. Dogs and cops were on the same team. But somehow, he knew. He always knew. This incoming was annoyance he didn't need. He barked back at the phone and tossed it on the couch. 

   He had spent most of his afternoon at the Deerfield Nursing Home, as he had every Sunday for the past seven years. Every Sunday, that is, when he wasn't called to his office at the Police Department.

   It was seven years ago to the day, that Dora Gravnick suffered a stroke that left her almost totally paralyzed from the neck down. and yet her mind remained as sharp as a tack, and her Tonge equally as barbed.

   "I Don't know why you waste your time coming around here? I don't need you. Besides, this place smells of shitty diapers. You'd do better to find yourself a nice girl to spend time with - someone pretty, that smells good. Take her nice places. Not like this piss pot.