Weave turned in surprise, spilling the contents of her pack. I watch in horror as our dinner, binoculars, flashlights and well laid plans tumbled off the side of the mountain. Weave didn't noticed the loss of our accouterments as she was busy rushing to greet the intruder, an ex-boyfriend of hers.

It's truly amazing how many of these guys are out there. It seems that where ever we go (restaurants, concerts, grocery shopping, etc.) we run into one of Weave's former "friends". I have become accustomed to these encounters and am quite adept at making polite noises as Weave reminisces with an ex. This time, however, it took all my power of self control to create the illusion of affability.

Our dog, however, has no skill in deception.

Ripple (an excellent judge of character and possessed of considerable less restraint than I) took an immediate dislike to this fellow. Barking and growling, Ripple expressed the displeasure that manners would not allow me to indulge in. I do love that dog.

A short time later we were on our way down the mountain, hurrying to beat the setting sun.