“Oh. He does this. It's like his favorite thing. He thinks he's saving us from the ferociousness of some terrible beast, but it's usually just some random rodent. Last time he did this, I called the Hurst Police Department because I thought he was barking at an actual intruder. They came out with their flashlights and their guns...But nope. Just a varmint. I should've known Spy was out to get me."
“Uh huh, okay.”
The rest is somewhat of a blur, the two of us trying to call my Golden Doodle away from an opossum. The dog was completely ignoring any and all of our attempts to distract him and was yelping uncontrollably. The opossum was growling, hissing, charging, and in full-on attack mode. Byron and I finally resorted to throwing sticks at both of them, yelling Spy’s name (this seemed extremely pointless in retrospect), all while praying none of the neighbors woke up since it was way past midnight.
We laughed, a lot…and then with an affectionate hug, he said 'goodnight'.