Wrigs met a fellow Chicagoan, a very friendly golden named Ozzie, after Ozzie Guillen of the White Sox. It was funny because when the owner asked me what Wrigley's name was and I told her she said, "Oh are you from Chicago too?" and I said, "Yes! How did you know?" (as I'm looking down at my clothes, thinking I must be sporting some Cubs gear) DUH! Both Wrigs and Ozzie are the same age and they played very well together but it's such a shame they can never be friends. Wrigs is a tried and true Cubs fan and absolutely refuses to associate with his cross town rivals. Plus we learned that Ozzie likes to eat pens. Wrigs just isn't down with that.
A mile or so later Wrigs and I encountered another very social pup (a Schnauzer, I think it was?) wearing an eye patch. I asked the owner upon approach if it was ok if Wrigley could say Hello and have a sniff, as he was already almost on top of this dog! Wrigs was extremely careful around the patch and sniffed ever so gently and then went about his business sniffing the unmentionables. Tails were wagging and tongues were hanging and all were having a grand old time. We were about to be on our way when I quickly reached down to give the dog a nice pat on the head and then said, "Arrrrrrrrr Matey!" Both the owner and the dog looked at me funny. The dog stopped wagging his tail and closed his mouth. I felt stupid and then said, "Have a nice day!" and whisked a tugging Wrigley away with me. I think the reason the dog reacted that way was because it sounded like I was sort of growling when I did the "Arrrrrrrr" part so that I could understand. But I do apologize to the woman if I offended her or her pooch in any way. It just came out and I didn't mean to be insensitive although I'm sure it's not the first time old Blackbeard's heard this one.
Our last encounter didn't involve anymore 4 leggers, instead we were downwind from an older gentleman with a bit of a noisy flatulence problem. The first time I heard him -and I'm ever so thankful my sonar bat ears were able to detect it before any of my other senses- I quickly picked up the pace and trotted ahead of him. But since we were often stopped by other people and dogs along the way this man ended up in front of us on more than one occasion during our walk. Obviously I'd never say anything but at one point the noise was so loud and turbulent, and, well...um, moist sounding? that I was tempted to offer the man one of Wrigley's blue poo bags. Ok, enough on this. I know when to stop.
But while we're on the subject I just thought of something else that utterly disgusts me on our walks. People who don't pick up their dogs poo. Not only is it smelly and unsightly, it's also very intriguing to my dog. Wrigs is very careful not to step in it but he drags me over to sniff each and every clump or dingle that's dropped. It completely grosses me out. I guess I relate all of this to human terms and think it would be like us going into a public restroom at an airport or shopping mall, only to discover that there sits an unflushed dump in the toilet. Then our first instinct would be to drop on all fours and hang our heads over the seat (nose hitting the water) in order to take a big whiff. As tempting as that may sound, I'm gonna have to pass. We only have room for one poo sniffer in this house. Well, two if you count Chumley.
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