The key to living dangerously

So last night, I dropped my keys while walking my dog.

In the dark.

While listening to a podcast about an unsolved murder.

The keychain had my flashlight and pepper spray on it, so I was forced to retrace my route unarmed and in the pitch black.

While listening to a podcast about an unsolved murder. Did I mention that?

My hound insisted on going forward, not backward, so I ended up carrying him. I recalled the spot where I last shined the light while my pup took a cigar break. No keys.

We returned to the house and, since the lost keychain had my house key on it, we couldn't get inside. Fortunately, I keep a spare. But it's hidden in a spot that had just been painted two hours previously. This led me to do the splits, balanced on one toe, to pluck the spare out of its hidey-hole. No problem.

Inside, I fetched another flashlight and headed out again to continue the search.

Voila. The keys appeared within a yard of where I realized they went missing. Yes! Victory.

Since the mishap cheated my furry friend out of his full walk, we went for another.

This time, nothing dropped (except his cigars).