You'd think that after 13 years, he'd know better...>
Still, the thumping and banging in the basement was my old man: 98% wolfdog Ono. He'd destroyed the furnace's protective cage, probably in pursuit of some small animal, and gotten badly tangled in the ducting's spiral-wire skeleton.
I reached for him--and for the first time, in mindless panic, he snapped at me.
His eyes met mine...and I realised my buddy was not inside them.
Since ketamine is a Schedule III drug (stingy bastards), we dodged teeth while freeing him via bolt cutters--earning a repentant kiss for our troubles.