"What the hell was THAT?"

So there we are on the front lawn last night. Me holding the anti-bear flashlight while Olive scent scans the environment. All of a sudden, a common yellow moth bobs and weaves its way into Olive’s personal space. Not a good idea. It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Olive tracks the moth as it orbits her, observing its erratic flight pattern, waiting no doubt for an opportune moment to strike. And then it comes. Olive waits calmly and patiently until the moth dances so closely to her that it appears that it will touch down on her nose. In one elegantly swift move, Olive lunges at the moth like a champion fencer. She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut around Tinkerbell. Within seconds, probably after experiencing the odd sensation of a moth fluttering around inside her mouth and tickling her tonsils, Olive’s mouth pops open and out flies the moth unharmed as if it has simply emerged from a tunnel, making it feel uniquely like an absurd cartoon moment.