“NO! BAD dog!!!” I heard from behind me.
And I hadn’t even paid the lady $20 or anything.
No, she was calling after her pooch, who had bolted away and lept into the pond. I helped her haul the beast out and gave him an approving glance as he shook his fur and went on his merry way.
Anyone who’s ever been a little kid can appreciate his thought processes. “She can yell at me for jumping in the pond,” he was thinking, just before going airborne. “But she CAN’T order me to feel as hot and miserable as I was before I hit that cool, cool water.”
Disturbingly, my next thought was “You know, the cops can yell at me…”