THE PROCESSION

One day, while having a latte at my favorite Starbucks, I noticed a most unusual funeral.

Instead of one hearse, there were two, one after the other, moving slowly down the street. Behind the hearse was a man with a dog on a leash. Behind the man was at least 100 men, single file, walking behind him.

As this was very unusual, I approached the man with the dog and asked about it as respectfully as possible.

“I don’t want to intrude on your sorrow, sir, but I couldn’t help but notice this funeral procession. Who passed away, if I may ask?”

The man looked at me and told me the first hearse contained his wife.

“My wife was angry with me and began to berate me horribly. As she was spewing out verbal abuse, my little dog here got agitated and barked ferociously at my wife. When my wife continued with the barrage of insults, even louder than before, my dog jumped up, attacked, and killed her.”

“That’s horrible!” I replied. “But what about the second hearse?”

“That’s my mother-in-law. She saw the whole thing. Naturally, she was very upset. She began kicking and screaming at me and my dog. That’s when my little protector jumped up and killed her too.”

There passed between us a moment of silent brotherhood between us.

“Can I borrow the dog?” I asked.

“Get in line.” The man replied.