“I’m sorry to bug you, but I’m so glad you’re here.” His brow furrowed. “There’s a dead squirrel outside my front door.” “What do you mean, there’s a dead squirrel outside your front door?” “I mean it’s there and it’s dead and I don’t know what to do with it. Max will try to eat it, or roll in it, so I need to get rid of it. And I’m not at all ashamed to say that if I try to do it myself, I’ll probably puke.” “But why is there a dead squirrel outside your door?”
