The prosecutor asked me to give my full name and background for the record.

“Agnes Quill,” I said.

“Retired state corrections officer, twenty-two years with the Oklahoma Department of Corrections.”

“Mrs.

Quill, please tell the court what you found when you came home from your sister’s funeral on the night of November fourth.”

“I got home at eleven o’clock,” I said.

“I heard whimpering from the dark back corner of the yard behind the garage.

I followed the sound to the old steel dog kennel.”