At lunch the other day, I was just trying to make it to my table without dropping anything. I had a full tray stacked with a burger, pizza and some chocolate milk, and I was weaving through these smelly teenagers like it was an obstacle course. Out of nowhere, I heard barking. At first, I thought it was someone’s phone, but then I saw her, my dog, LeBron, sprinting across the cafeteria like he owned the school.
Before I could react, he came charging straight at me. In that split-second I had two choice: drop the tray or get tackled. As you may have guessed, both happened. The pizza flew onto someone’s backpack, the condiments from the burger stained everyone near me, and my milk exploded in my face. The whole cafeteria froze for a second, and then everyone burst out laughing. Lebron sat proudly in a puddle of milk with my pizza dangling from his mouth.