Me: “Who wants to go outside?”
The Budster: “Oh yeah.”
The Duchess: “I’m coming.”
Miss Annie: “Count me in.”
Me: “Mumford, what about you?”
Mumford: “I like spaghetti.”
The three and me meet at the door and I snapped the Budster’s leash on. As I’m opening the door, Mumford shows up.
Mumford: “I wanna go!”
Me: “I asked you.”
Mumford: “No you didn’t.”
We all roll our eyes as I snap Mumford’s leash on.
This ought to be colorful.
I opened the door and a doggy storm ensued, the herd of furry feet thundering down the ramp with me in tow. The Duchess shot to the right, Miss Annie to the left, the Budster and Mumford straight ahead. This ought to be colorful.
Me: “Watch out for Buddy’s leash, Mumford.”
Mumford: “What leash?”
Tangle tangle trip recover tangle trip recover.
As if cued by a pause in the silent music of nature, the Budster and Mumford both stop at the same time and commit to business.
Then following the same band leader, they begin waking again…in the same direction…three feet apart…in parallel.
The three of us walked to the dumpster where Mumford patiently waited while the Budster applied his art of authority to ward off evil. He began walking again and so did Mumford. I looked over my shoulder to see Miss Annie and the Duchess watching us.
The Duchess: “That’s not natural you know.”
Me: “I know.”
Miss Annie: “What’s wrong with her?”
I shrug. “No clue.”
Mumford and the Budster begin their trek around the circuit of the front yard, a loop to the right that makes a circle. Always clockwise. Both are still walking in perfect harmony. The Budster pauses to express himself, Mumford keeps walking and he jogs a moment to catch up.
The Duchess: “I don’t believe this.”
Miss Annie: “We’re having the same dream.”
The Duchess: “Must be, b’cuz this can’t be real.”
We rounded the last corner, heading back toward the house when Mumford strays to the left and gets tangled in the Budster’s leash.
Tangle tangle stumble recover tangle tangle stumble.
The Duchess: “That’s our girl.”
Miss Annie: “She’s okay.”
The Duchess: “I was worried there for a minute.”
Bending down to untangle Mumford from Buddy’s leash, I looked over at the girls who were smiling.
Me: “Don’t say it.”
The Duchess: “Say what?”
Miss Annie: “Lips are sealed.”
The Budster: “Man, we almost made it.”
Mumford: “Made what?”
I finished unwinding the last loop that was around her foot. “Nothing. Just ignore them.”
Mumford: “Ignore who?”
We are all back inside. The Duchess is in protecting Mom, Mumford is kissing her fan, Miss Annie is laying in the hall bathroom and the Budster is resting beside me.
If it’s true that when we die, the events of our life are played out before us, it’s going to be one cartoon after another and God’s going to be laughing. I know He is.