I stand at the top of the stoop and gently tug the dog's leash to try and get her inside, but for an old dog she can make herself surprisingly dense. Eventually I give up and sit on the bottom step while she stands in the middle of the sidewalk staring up at the people as they walk around her and "taking the air."
Another dog walks by, a little Yorkie in a sweater who stops so frequently to scratch himself that his owner feels compelled to say, "He's got really bad allergies."
"Man," I say to the little guy as he stops again and scratches furiously, "imagine if you were allergic to dogs."
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One year ago: Back in the Saddle
Two years ago: Go to Sleep
Four years ago: Snapshots From an Evening Walk
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