After making sure I had not managed to ingest LSD or some other hallucinogen (nope, just coffee) I realized that these phantom things are actually all people doing garden work (except the kid, still not sure what he was doing). I send up a quick prayer that Mr. H doesn't flip a poo on them because they are some odd people and I really can't grab up much of our 6 foot line in a millisecond so someone is gonna get scared poo-less.
Without ushering a command he kept walking, never stopping, and while his hackles were up and he was giving them the stare down (and maybe the whale eye at the kid - I was too), he didn't make a sound. Didn't even twitch towards them. Even when Dying Fox Kid tossed a branch at him. Maybe it was a stick. I'm not sure; it was brown and long. But it barely made it a foot before falling harmlessly to the ground. Again, not even a twitch. And that's when I screamed out "GOOD BOY" in glee and the Dying Fox Kid mimicked me as Mr. H and I skipped across the road in pure delight like we were in some sort of Broadway play.



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