God I love my dog.
We ran by some older ladies who were walking in the neighborhood across the main road from ours. I said "good morning" and they said, "heeeylooo..."
Then I heard one biddie say to the other, "That must be a new one." (The "one" being me, that is.) What that means, I am not sure. One what? Dog owner? Good lookin' chick? Shiftless lookin' hooligan?
After we finished running, Spilly had to take a leak, so she squatted in a side yard. As she was finishing, I heard a woman's voice yell, "You better peeek that up!!" I turned around to see a woman shake a finger at me and walk back in her front door. I tried to shake my head and yell," She's only peeing!" but Senora couldn't hear me.
Well.
I walked up to her front door where we were greeted by no less than five dogs of varying size. I knocked on the door until she came back and I said (very politely), "This is my dog, Spilly, and she is a girl. She was not pooping; she was tinkling."
In her smoker's voice the lady immediately apologized up and down and explained that she had been trying to catch the person who had been leaving THEIR big dog's daily flops on everyone's lawns.
"Dios mio! I once step in eet and seenk in up to my ankeels!"
"I know how you feel; if I didn't know better, I would think someone was letting loose a bear in MY neighborhood."
She went on to explain that the same mistake had been made about her boxer, which was also a female. Then she again apologized and I now have a new best friend in a nearby neighborhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment