>REYKJAVIK

>”The first thing you’ll notice is that there central heterochromia.” The salesman had his pitch down to a smooth art. His fingers worked their way through the dog’s body like he was conducting a detailed autopsy, which, perhaps, he was.

We peered in closer, following his fingers. The husky stared straight ahead, seemingly unfazed by all these pairs of fingers flitting across its vision. The salesman was right: each of the dog’s eyes had green swirls sliding circularly across the ice-blue pupils.

“Nothing wrong with him, of course,” said the salesman. “Just melanin levels in his eyes is all wronged up. Course you don’t often see such interesting patterns. Usually you get one eye that’s brown and one that’s green, something like that.”

He was right. This dog’s eyes were startling. He was the only Husky in the lot that wasn’t shifting around nervously in the unseasonal heat.

“We’ll take him,” I said.

Richard nudged me in the side. “Um, Tracie?” His face told me all I needed to know.

“But look at him,” I pressed.

“You don’t want to check any others out?”

“This one just spoke to me. I don’t need to see any others.”

The salesman grinned a sharky smile. “He’s a beaut, that’s for right sure.”

Richard relented. “Your choice,” he told me. “Your choice.”

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