The following post is absolutely no reflection on my wonderful, beautiful, fabulous real life friends who read this site.

Or any of their furry dependents.

However, sometimes I find myself a little surprised when I meet one of my friend’s pets--let’s call it Cujo, from the Steven King novel about a rabid dog who tears humans apart--and I am somewhat taken aback by said pet’s aggressive behavior.  I.e., the dog gnaws on my hand, or jumps on top of me, or almost knocks a wine glass out of my hand.

And the friend says “You just have to know how to deal with her.”

And I have to say: “I totally could, if I hadn’t left my suit of armor and morningstar mace at the cleaners.”