This morning I met Maisie and Joe, two chubby American Staffies playing tennis in the park. Their owner, Mac, would hit one clear in the air and they’d run to smack it before it reached the ground. It was the cutest thing to watch, their robust rear ends jiggling joyously.
They both stopped when they saw me as if to say,”Hey, ya wanna play?”
“Yeah, I do.” So for a good hardy five minutes I threw the ball feeling my heart happily rise from my chest.
On my way home I saw Roy the hotdog with his prissy owner so buttoned-up I wonder how he breathes. Roy too has a contained look about him, as if he knows, I belong to a very proper, fastidious man so I better toe the line.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to, making a fuss whenever I see him.
“Is that Roy I see?” I croon watching his master tense. “You’re looking very handsome in that Burberry collar of yours. I have a scarf similar I think is very smart.”
His owner never speaks nor acknowledges any of my silliness. Roy though, I can tell, appreciates it since he stops to give me a little look.
We always have the top ten: Julius, Tasmania, Jilly and Tess. Pippin, Atticus, Larry and Jake, old Daisy bringing up the rear I see most mornings. They’re like the Explorer’s Club headed to the park for a new adventure.
But when I really get a treat, is when I run into Konkie, the Toastmaster General of Pits. Lovingly rescued by the loveliest English girl, Konkie could bring about world peace. Big, and a shy sloppy, like he just had a beer…a face the size of a jet engine, he actually smiles whenever he sees you. It’s true. His face changes as if he’s courtin votes, working the district promising, you vote for me, I’ll see you have a better day.
Yes, I write a lot about animals.