When I walk the dog, I keep
to myself. I bring a book or the newspaper or my thoughts. I concentrate
on one of those items and try to keep Tundra from racing off and disemboweling woodland creatures.
The s.o., on the other hand, has
an inexhaustible appetite for merry adventures, which he shares when he
returns with the walked dog.
"Tundra was so excited," he says. "She
got to meet Princess Muffin, who is owned by Ebenezer, who lives in a
building down the way. Ebenezer is studying dentistry! Then I took the
dog to the other side of the complex, and she ran across Conan the Lab, who
is owned by this cool guy named Vaclav. And he said --"
And so
on.
While I'm glad Max gets to have such a good time, it makes me
feel like a recluse. At least I will always have my blog entries. They will
always talk to me. They will always be my friends. Ah. That's
better.