This morning while walking with Lila, I was happy to see the soft baby blue color of the sky. Only a few white and gray wispy clouds floated about. The air felt warmer than the day before, yet the wind was stronger.
The street was clear of ice and snow, so it was easy-going until we got to the icy wooden bridge. I guess I can’t expect the city to put chemicals that erode things on a wooden bridge, but when my 70-pound dog started pulling me across the ice, I started to get a little nervous.
After we made it safely across the bridge, Lila found some things to sniff while we moseyed around the clear path. The wind wasn’t moving us along any faster than usual. I didn’t pay much attention to the walkers ahead of us. I was making a point of enjoying the fresh air that held a tint of spring, and I silently thanked myself for wearing a hat and sunglasses.
Lila, the more observant one, noticed who was ahead of us. She walked faster and faster, pulling me along, while I wondered why, and then I recognized the black beret hat and red jacket of our neighbor, Carl. Carl was walking with Ollie. Ollie, a labradoodle puppy, would not move along as he should, and he stood there waiting for us. Lila and Ollie said their hellos in the usual manner with Lila very easily showing Ollie who rules. Ollie hopped up to give Lila a kiss on her cheek, and Lila mimicked the gesture by jumping up to Carl’s face.
“No, down,” I said while Carl put up his arm to protect himself from slobbering dog kisses.
We chatted for a little while about the cuteness of our dogs, when Lila started pulling me along.
“Why don’t you go ahead of us?” Carl said, as he dug some sort of rock or tree part out of Ollie’s mouth. “You are much faster than we are. This dog is always eating something.”
“Lila is always chewing on something too, but she has a bigger digestive system,” I said.
“Ollie held onto a sock for three days before throwing it up.”
“Good thing he got rid of it,” I said. “It’s such a nice day, isn’t it? A little windy though.” We continued on our way along the path.
“Yes, it’s brisk,” said Carl.
“See you later,” we both chimed.
As Lila and I circled around and got closer to the playground, we noticed a boy and a dog playing on the equipment.
“Willie,” the boy yelled. “Come back here.” Willie, a little black and gray poodle mix, was running straight towards us and getting Lila all riled up. Lila pulled the leash, but I held her tight. She looked up at me as if to say, “Why does that dog get to run around, and I don’t?”
Willie listened to the boy, and went back briefly, but then came back a couple more times. Each time, I held on tight. We marched on our way and left Willie and the boy behind.
As we got closer to home, the smell of cooking bacon wafted through the air. I couldn’t tell where the smell was coming from. Since Lila wanted to stay outside in the front yard, I knew that the smell was not coming from our house.
Lila laid down in a white pile of very cold snow, settling down to watch over the neighborhood. Seeing her in the snow gave me the shivers. Lila never appears to be cold, and it makes me wonder if her fur coat has the ability to gather up and store sunbeams. It must because she is only in a hurry to get inside if it is for a treat or her dinner.
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