Man and dog v. squirrel

A friend calls to bounce an idea off me. She’s got something there, so the “quick call” turns into a marathon, during which I make the bed, empty the dishwasher, and tidy up, all without her noticing.

Then Morty gives me that look that says walk me, or suffer the consequences.

I attach the leash with one hand, hold the phone with the other. In a moment, Morty and I are in the alley behind the apartment, the conversation in full swing, my friend none the wiser.

“So you like it?” she asks.

I answer with the scream of a cowardly Viking.

A hissing squirrel with a death wish darts out of a gate only a foot away from me. I jump, Morty growls, and for a frozen moment the squirrel considers battle, before racing away.

Somehow in the commotion I manage to knock the glasses off my face, but hang onto the phone and the dog.

“What happened?”

The incident is too fresh to make up a cover story, so I blurt out something about the squirrel and how the sucker hissed like it was “go time.”

She laughs, a little too much for my battered ego.

“I wish I could’ve seen that,” she says.

“I’m glad nobody saw that.”

“Yeah but you’ll probably just end up putting it on Facebook anyway.”

“Damn it.”

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