Today I walked my brother's dog. Tally is a middle-aged small black lab mix and when she gets riled up, she does a sort of Bill Cosby dance, waving her paws in the air and spinning around in circles. When she's outside and unleashed, you can really appreciate her acceleration speed as she often performs a wheelie. The torque produced from her back legs is unsurpassed. I was running and walking with this wheelie poppin' unleashed maniacally fast dog when suddenly another dog comes grunting around from behind a neighbors house to visit.
A bulldog. Stout, round and pug-nosed. Drooling everywhere, and even leaving globs of white bubbly spit on Tally sleek black coat, this dog is the epitome of ugly-cute-disgusting-ness. I watched, entertained as Tally ran around this grunt of a four legged creature, almost taunting as it bumbled along after her in attempt to play. I felt bad for her awkwardness and yet saw her beauty, yes, the bulldog is female (I would have assume otherwise except that it wore a pink flowery collar).
I named her Shmuggles.
Shmuggles followed us everywhere despite my encouragement for her to return home. She tried to keep up with Tally, snorting and sucking air all the while. Her rumply skin shifted loosely over her brick-like build as her legs tilted inward and barely bent at the knees. Shmuggles is like a squaty bodybuilder of a dog; pristine awkwardness. Tally and I ran home and as I was about to let Tally inside when Shmuggles caught up and thrusted her nose into the cracked door. The force shocked me, but I held her back.
Tally and I were inside for a bit when unexpectedly, the doorbell rang.
Shmuggles...
And a elderly lady...
"she was following me, and I didn't want her to get to far from home."
"Ummm, Shmuggles isn't my dog."
"Oh...she was right here on your front stoop before she started following me."
We chatted for awhile as we walked Shmuggles back toward the house I saw her come from about 20 minutes prior, and behold, the neighbor, a 30-ish year old man saw her and started bumbling yearningly toward.
"Where have you been! Don't you ever do that again!" He lovingly scolded his dog, then proceed to pick her up and kiss her. Addressing the lady and I "She's never done that before. Thank you so much for bringing her back." Tears were almost flowing. Kiss kiss kiss. Shmuggles was smothered. Hmmm, I felt weird. I told him it was no problem, glad to, she was just one street over, and began to wonder if the dog felt deep shame for being so babied. I was so surprised that someone would be almost hysterical over a dog wandering one street over in a cookie cutter, cul-de-sac, suburban neighborhood. I am sad that Shmuggles has been brought up in a box. A dog running away is difficult though especially with the worry of a nearby highway. It's a beautiful thing that he loves his dog so much, but sheesh, his manliness level just dropped by 8 points. I understand the idea of a dog being man's best friend, because of their loyalty, and I love my dog too, but it's also interesting to think of the contrary.
Some cultures eat dogs.
We kiss them.
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