Moving Day

I helped move Babcia (Polish for grandmother) out of the old folks home yesterday. She will be living with my aunt in Colorado. While we were taking some items out to the parking lot, my wife, Uncle, and I saw a Chihuahua running around the parking lot yipping at us. This parking lot had desert behind it so the dog could wander off. The process of attempting to catch it went like this:

Chihuahua: Hey you! Buddy! Don’t you try nothing! I’ll kick your ass!

We take a few steps forward. The dog takes a few steps back.

Chihuahua: You better not mess with me! I know karate!

We take a few steps forward. The dog takes a few steps back.

Chihuahua: Look dude, I’m the size of a German Shepard. I will end you.

We take a few steps forward. The dog takes a few steps back.

Chihuahua: It’s on! Bring on the pain!

Not wanting the dog to bolt into the desert, I changed tactic and my wife suggested I tell the front desk about the dog. It just so happens that the resident that owns the dog was also at the front desk. He was an old man with a walker, slacks, button up shirt and suspenders. He told us he’ll take care of it and that was the end of it.

Later on, I saw another old guy who was dressed exactly like the one with the dog. I really did mistake him for the one with the dog. Here is how the interaction went:

Aaron: Did you find your dog?

Old Guy 2: Nope, I put him down a few years ago.

Awkward… slowly… creep… away…

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