I’m out taking Cauchy for a walk around the neighborhood when I spy a father and his son, no doubt getting ready for Halloween, dressed in Jedi robes and have a lightsaber fight on their front lawn.
As we approach, the little boy stops and points his lightsaber at Cauchy.
I wave my hand across the little boy’s face. “This is not the dog you are looking for,” I say calmly.
The little kid stops, looking genuinely confused.
I walk away, while his dad is bent over laughing.