Here in town where I live the sidewalk crowd have crept out of their front doors now that it's spring and begun stretching their legs walking, up and down, up and down the sidewalk. I have 100' of it running along side of my property, and with only a low 3' chain link neighbour friendly fence separating me and thee it's easy to stop the yard work I'm pretending to do and chat with the walkers. In winter I'm generally shovelling the walk clear, but there are few pedestrians at that time of year. But once the weather breaks the crowds come out in numbers. And of course not all the dogs have trained people to walk with. There's Pepe. Don't ask me why we call him Pepe, it just seems appropriate for a chubby chihuahua. His older matronly owner calls for him from up the street when she's noticed he's wandered off ...again. Her Polish accent is as thick as Kielbasa and tender as Paczki, but I have no idea what she's calling him. He looks back at her, wags his little chihuahua tail and continues along on his 100 foot road trip. Leaning on the fence I wave to her and call out "It's okay, I'll keep an eye on him!" She folds her hands in front of her pretty print dress, teases a grey lock of hair back behind an ear and smiles, and then turns back towards the porch. I'm not sure what language Pepe responds to so I just keep things brief and casual, "How's it goin'? Havin' a good day?" He wags his tail furiously, pit pats over on his little doggie paws, looks up, and permits me a little scritch scratch on his head before continuing on down to finish his 100 foot lap. He never barks, never growls, never whines and never howls. He's just a quiet friendly little guy. A good przyjaciel-amigo, and the perfect neighbour. Pepe out this evening going for his walk. It must be spring.
