Unlikely Story

by Ali Rosen

“Hey,” I say, morally obligated to stick up for my beloved but strange dog.

“He needed a walk,” I say, waving the presence of her canine frenemy away as though that sentence explains everything.

I’m happy to wait until we have coffee. And apparently . . . veggie straws and peanut butter? “What the hell is this,” I ask when she unceremoniously puts a plate down in front of me. “Don’t knock my snacks, okay,”

fumbling to get the door open while George stares up at me like he regrets having me as an owner.