July 28th 2005 10:25 am
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On our regular around-town walking route, lives a very small, vaguely terrierish, wire-haired black dog. Often, said dog is confined to its garage and just yaps at us through the door. Just as often, though, it has escaped and is waiting for us in the driveway. It won’t risk a frontal attack, of course, but it loves to “chase” me away after we’ve passed, yapping incessantly at my receding hind quarters.
Until recently, we had never seen said dog anywhere other than right in front of its own house. Recently, though, it (will I give too much away if I say she?) has begun to wander. And she’s become a great deal friendlier than she ever used to be.
She wandered by our gated compound yesterday, and slipped right under the gate. She looked as if some other dog or dogs had been slobbering all over her back, which is, I believe, what caused the biped to christen her “Spiny Norman” (I don’t even ask anymore). But I’m not the jealous sort, and a confused DNA trail is probably all to the good.
Anyway, she batted her little eyelashes at me. And indicated that she had no objection at all to being sniffed. And, well, she just generally seemed available, if you know what I mean.
But here’s the thing: I’m a young dog, of no great experience in these matters. I’m also a pretty tall dog. And Spiny Norman’s relevant bits are, oh, maybe four inches off the ground. So, we never did quite connect, if you see what I'm saying. Very frustrating.
Finally (when he’d stopped laughing), the biped locked me in the back yard and ran Spiny Norman out. And I think he may have said some unfortunate things about her morals, too. But I wasn’t really paying attention to him.
Anyway, she’s back again this morning (yessir, the ladies just can’t get enough of me… even when they can’t actually get any of me). And I am beside myself with frustration. It’s a dog’s life.
Later that same morning: OK, OK… Spiny Norma, then. And if Dinsdale Piranha doesn’t like it, arf ‘im.
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