Tug and Sniff

As I came back down a narrow pathway, grocery bags in hand, looking at a squirrel above me dashing across a telephone wire in what seemed to be quite a hurry, a girl approached me with her pint sized dog, who was tugging on the leash with abandon. I smiled at her and said: “I see your dog is taking you for a walk”, at which she got the giggles. I bent down and petted the dog, who now stopped pulling, as his nose caught a scent of my cat Calvin. Brief interest, then back to tugging on the leash — there are things to be explored and sniffed. “Bye”, “Bye”.

My hand was then sniffed of course when I entered my apartment with my groceries, with disdain and casual interest on Calvin’s part, as best I could tell. Occasionally when I have petted dogs, Calvin’s tail gets super bushy — something that always amuses me. Interestingly enough, it has nothing to do with the size of the dog — a mystery.

Have a blessed peaceful week.

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