I climbed the latter a few steps to make sure that it was sturdy. Not that I knew anything about latters or how well one should be secured before climbing. He was already busy tying a weight to the end of a rock, which we would throw up over the limb so that we could thread a larger rope up there. The idea being that when he cut the limb, I would pull on the rope and keep it from collapsing onto the neighbor's fence.
I sat my beer down, "I got this."

I threw a perfect strike up between the limps over the one we needed down. After hoisting up the rope, my dad, the knot expert, but some kind of knot on there and we had a makeshift support rope in place.

"Now I am going to climb up there and cut the limb, you keep pressure on it so it will come off this away," he said, pointing towards our yard.
"Got it."

I remember as a kid, walking our dog through the highschool football kid, around the soccer fields and playgrounds. Always fall in my memory, steam rising from our breath, him insisting I wear a hat. We would often let our dog get a little away from us, and then hide; maybe in a dip in the earth, or behind a bleacher. Lucy would be so damn excitd running around smelling the smells of highschool trashcans that she would be lost in her own thoughts. She assumed we were there. She would lok back, and we were gone. An athletic dog, she would start jumping around to get a better look at her environment. The best was when she would be 50 yards or so away before she noticed we were missing. Because once she did spot us, the speed that she reached in getting to us was amazing.