Weird Dinner Party

My aunt B.L. lives within a five minute walk from my new apartment and tonight I walked on over and ate a lot of good food with my mother's side of the family and my stepdad, Tom. We're in the middle of dinner, feeling good and drinking wine, when someone pounds on the door. B.L. shouts "Come in!" but the voice behind the door shouts back "I don't think so!" For the first time ever, after a brief arguement, I'm sitting at the end of the table, nearest to the front door, and I stand up from the table. "Should I get the door?" I ask. Everyone else just stares at me, frozen. I am the youngest person in the room by about thirty years, and I'm used to being the kid. Suddenly I realize that if this a stick-up I'm the most able bodied person available to deal with the perp, and, more than that, every one else is scared. So I go to the door, imagining that I will be shot, and outside there's a lady looking sweaty and angry. It's dark outside, did I say that yet? It's dark and getting darker, and she's got one dog by the leash and another dog by the collar.

"Is this your dog?" she shouts.

I look down to see Ruby, my aunt's two year old golden retriever, looking inexpressably happy.

"No," I say. "It's my aunt's dog."

"Well, I found her lying in the middle of the road (a busy road, in the dark) and my dog's not very friendly."

"Sorry, " I say. "She must have gotten out of the backyard (there's a swinging door with a latch). " I take Ruby the Runner by the collar and pull her inside. "Thanks," I say, "This dog is like her baby."

"Yeah," the lady says, and charges off into the night with her unfriendly dog. I return to the dinner party, make my report along with the excited, happy Ruby, and from there a palpable pall settles over the party as my aunt threatens to kill Milt, who had told her the dog was outside and just fine.

I was gone in ten minutes.