This is the 82nd installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
Don’t put peanut butter on the dog’s nose. He mistakes it for a bug, and then he’s running around the house, crashing into furniture and walls. He pinballs through every room, and no one is safe. No one.
We had a dinner party a couple months back, and my wife’s business partner thought it’d be fun to give Jolly, our Mastiff, a little treat. We were cleaning up broken glass well into the small hours of the morning. I still have a scar halfway down the sole of my foot.
Let’s not repeat all that at this barbecue, Susan. Put the jar down, and no vases or bookcases will get hurt.
I’m stuck at the grill, too far away to stop her. She must not sense my glare because she grins at the dog and begins to unscrew the lid. My wife leaps into action; she lunges as if trying to stop Susan from pulling a grenade pin. As my wife explains, Susan’s confusion turns to disbelief, but she leaves it at that. Jolly escapes with his nose unscathed, and the rest of us escape with our lives.
Miles Away 