Flower Power

In my long ago world where I had no interest in being a nice guy there was this saying: hire the handicapped, they're fun to watch. I worked for a contractor, and that was the standard response whenever anyone hit their hand with a hammer, dropped something, tripped, or otherwise gave us an opportunity to say it. I try not to think that way about Jack, especially since most of his blindness induced misadventures in some way result from me failing to warn him as his person should. But this morning...

Apparently some female dog left a calling card in my girlfriend's lawn. Jack was searching, nose four inches off the grass, for the epicenter of the smell. In the intensity of the moment he was ignoring the open car door and anything I had to say, so I really don't feel bad about not warning him, and I honestly didn't see this one coming. I still got the accusing look that is his clear expression of 'why didn't you warn me?'

The look lost something this time though. Something about the explosive exhalation of dandelion seeds and the litter of white specks across the black part of his muzzle took a lot of the sting out of it.