Big Brass Ones

the treat-pocket lady

As it turns out (i.e., "in the event"), I got to go for a Fort Ord run yesterday afternoon, AND had my regular Garland Park outing this morning.

We ran into the "treat-pocket" lady this morning at Garland Park. I don't think I've told you about her before. She's a biped about the age of my bipeds, who walks her old yellow lab bitch early every morning at Garland Park. We run into her every once in a while.

The first time we met her, I immediately stuck my nose where the biped insists it doesn't belong (how else am I supposed to get somebody's quick biographical stats?). She said, "Oh, he smells my treat pocket!" whereupon, she reached into a pocket of her long jacket and produced a dog biscuit of some sort for me.

Well, of course, it wasn't really her treat pocket I was sniffing, and the biped knew it. Ever since then, he has been referring to that particular portion of the biped female anatomy as the treat pocket, and to this particular bipedess as the treat-pocket lady.

Anyway, she's very nice, and so's her lab, and I hope she never reads this.