Walkabout

Looking out a side window, I saw a white-haired man and black dog circling each in the new-ish neighbors' yard.

Maybe they got a dog, I thought to myself. I don't remember anyone over there having white hair though.

The man spiraled in until at last he was able to grab the dog's collar and hook a leash to it.

Oh, that's Rosco. He must've gone on walkabout in the neighborhood again, I realized. And that's one of his owners. Not white hair, very light grey.

I considered not going past Rosco's house when I went out for a walk later. I wasn't in the mood to be barked or charged at, even if affectionately. Actually, especially if affectionately. I didn't want him to rub greasy, smelly fur all over one of my nice pairs of pants.

I approached the top of the hill vigilantly, looking for any sign of Rosco or anyone, but after his escapade, it seemed like they'd gone inside so I passed without incident.

Apollo, the dog across the street who is alas no longer puppy sized, was outside, lying on the grass. He's been newly venturing off-leash since those neighbors had an invisible fence installed. He's still in training though so he's under supervision while out.

I was a little concerned he might come charging at me when I passed by on his side of the street but he was content in the back yard with the kids and an adult, all paying me no mind.

Huzzah!


10 years ago on TTaT: To sum up