Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 75

Nose pointed skyward, the dog froze beside a tree, but only to trick the chippering squirrel above into thinking she had gone away.

My father turned slowly.

I gulped, ready to explain. As much as the dog wasn’t allowed in the forest, neither was I.

But he said nothing. In fact, he gazed right past me.

As the dog returned to my side, curious about the outcome of this potential trouble, my father gave a slight shrug. Then continued on his way.

As it turned out, when my father left home to venture into the forest to fell a tree, the dog and I fell from existence.