Marina's Faux Pas

Driving down 561 a few years ago, a fox lept out in front of my little Saturn and then quick dashed back into the thicket. The conversation between myself and my beloved cousin is as follows,

"Jesus freakin' Christ Almighty, I nearly ran that fucking fox down."

"(enormous laughter) A fox? Um, that was a chihuahua, honey. 'A fox.' You are too much."

I think: "Whhhaaaaat?? That was so a fox, is she on crack again??"