"Well," he said, his lips curling into a slow, confident grin that seemed to light up the shadows of the forest. "Tell him that I do." The sheer absurdity of his comment answering my dog’s growls as if they were a formal challenge broke the tension like a glass pane shattering. We both burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the towering pines. His ice breaker had worked perfectly, momentarily pushing back the terror of the mountain lion encounter. Nevertheless, the peace was short lived. Even with my most soothing, melodic tone and a gentle, steadying touch on his collar, Max continued to growl. The low rumble vibrated through his chest, and he paced back and forth in front of me, his hackles raised like a row of jagged teeth. "Max!" I scolded, trying to sound firmer than I felt. "Knock it off, boy. Be nice." The stranger watched the dog with a curious, knowing expression. "Don't blame Max. It's not his fault," he said,"All dogs hate me. It’s their natural instinc
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