We went for a stroll last night after dinner. It was perfectly lovely out, not too warm, not too cold. I am able to stroll fairly well these days, which is a good thing if I expect to stroll through several airports toward the end of October when my trip to Los Angeles is planned.
We strolled at a moderate speed down Willow Road toward Tony's house. Tony is a good man and a kind neighbor. He always gives us some deer meat during hunting season. Tony lives at the fork where Willow Road and the county road meet. We decided to take the fork to the right because there is a house further up the county road that has an amazing water feature. We watched if for a moment and then saw that Tony and his dog, Chance, were walking toward home. When we met up, we all strolled back toward his house.
This is Chance, and she and I have a history because of this fellow...
Little Dog. When he was alive, I took him on a walk every day when the weather was nice, and we usually walked by Tony’s house. Tony’s yard was not fenced then, and if Chance was outside when we passed by, she would gallop over to us in high glee.
She loved my dog and was happy to follow by his side. They made a comical pair. She is big and he was small -- Little Dog could just about walk under her belly without touching..
A few years ago, Tony bred her to another American bulldog. Little Dog had died by that time, and I had it in the back of my mind to talk Richard into getting one of her puppies. Except she only had two puppies: One of them was promised to the breeder, and Tony sold the other one to a friend. And then Richard said she was too much like a pit bulldog. He didn’t trust the breed.
I do. I trust her. She is a great dog, and I’d take her in a heartbeat. The only problem is her massive tail, which she wags a lot, and it just about knocks you down if it whacks into the back of your knees. I'd prefer not to do any more falling down, thank you very much.