My Defective Dog

Somewhere in the twisted mental pathways that make up the tiny brain of my little dog, Tak, the phrase “It’s a trap!” — said in an Admiral Ackbar voice — means “there is a squirrel outside. Go find and kill it now!”

Really.

“It’s a trap!”

And the dog bolts out of the room, off the porch, and over to the nearest tree, hell-bent for some squealy squirrel death.