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Chapter 81: Piper

Preparing for Moby's homecoming wasn't quite the blissful experience I imagined. My dad and Nate built a makeshift ramp up the stairs to our house; that was a nightmare in and of itself. Holy hell, never solicit this kind of help from anyone other than a professional. Seventeen hours later, five additional men, and countless trips to the hardware store, and I now have a piece of plywood lying across my front stairs. That might be a slight exaggeration, but I swear, not by much.

Never in my life have I seen grown men fighting over stupider shit-nails versus screws, hammers versus nail guns, types of wood-for the love of all that is holy, who cares? I would like to believe we don't need to build something to withstand the test of time, just help Moby out for a week or two until he's more comfortable walking on his own.