Not A Dog
On a rare warm Halloween night I sat on a neighbor’s porch handing out candy to the little hoodlums who stalked the neighborhood. Our yellow lab, Ginger, lay behind my lawn chair passively watching the demons, devils, princesses and pirates as they ran from house to house demanding protection money.
One little Tinker Bell came up the walk by herself and held out her bag. After collecting her extortion fee she asked, “Mister, can I pet your dog?”
I said, no dear, that’s not a dog. That’s my little girl, Ginger. She’s dressed up like a dog for Halloween.”
Tinker Bell looked up at me, uncertain, and started back to her parents who were waiting for her on the sidewalk. Half way to them she stopped, turned on the heels of her little faery slippers and called out. “Mister, that’s a really good costume!”
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