You know, for one last go, a sort of "farewell and adieu," I tried to read GfinS's last post, but other than general hysteria, it reminded me of the Yorkshire terrier that belongs to the nice lady across the street. He makes about as much sense.

Coming home from work one afternoon, I was driving down my street heading for my garage, and suddenly the Yorkie runs out in the middle of the street right in front of me and tries to face me down. He's barking so vigorously that with each "YAP!" all four feet leave the pavement. I stopped, as not to run over him. He was such a runt that I probably could have driven right over him and not even touched him, but the way he was acting, he probably would have tried to bite one of my tires, which could possibly lead to his getting his empty little head mashed.

It got pretty funny in a frustrating sort of way. I tried to ease the car forward, hoping that he would back down. But no! He just barked all the more vigorously. I was on the verge of getting out of the car, grabbing him, and throwing him over the hedge, but the woman who owned him came dashing out of her house, scooped him up, and apologized profusely. We got to laughing as, there, safe in her restraining arms, he was still barking at me as if he wanted to tear a leg off.

But then, I'm generally kind to dumb animals. . . .

Don Firth ("YAP! YAP! YAP!" yourself!)