Mickey, one of the dogs I walk, found a dead squirrel today and picked it up. The wiry tail hung out of his mouse and whipped back and forth like a half-eaten strand of spaghetti.
Mickey was very proud of himself. He walked close to me to show off his prize. My one attempt to dislodge it from his mouth, poking the dead squirrel with a four-foot stick, only gained me an annoyed look.
He carried it all the way home, when he unceremoniously dropped it on the newly vacuumed carpet. I locked him in a room while I threw it away. Before we got home, though, we met a manically friendly 40ish year-old woman who was jogging towards us. This is the verbatim conversation:
LADY: "Oh, look at you! You are such a sweet dog! Yes, you are! Yes, you--OH GOD."
ME: "Yup."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment