A different way today

The City was finally fixing some of the bad planks on the bike bridge over 48th street. That means pickups all over the place. Why is it when there is something little to fix, you have pickups all over? I am sure Ford knows these things.

Anyway, with a blocked bridge, Buc and I had to use a different path for the daily walk. After all, you wouldn't want to read about how I fished and dangling dog out from a hole it the bridge, would you?

I took a more social approach to the walk. Less squirrels and rabbits and more humans and cars. He needs to know more about humans and cars and how to stay out of the way, look before he crosses a busy street and things like that. I am assuming I have the smartest dog in the world and would do these things should he ever chew through his leash and choose freedom over comfort.

The path took us by a couple of big stores. Suddenly, he stopped and his ears perked up.

"What?" I asked as he held his ground with the leash. Normally, he'll prance along right next to me with a loop of leash in his mouth just to show everybody he is driving, not me. He dropped the extra hunk of leash and tilted his head up and sniffed and listened again.

"What?"

He turned and looked at the store and finally, I figured out what had his attention. Mind you, this is a 4 month old dog, or in human terms, he is a little over two. He was hearing the Salvation Army bells in front of the store.

"It's too early for that," I told him and tugged on the leash in a less donative direction. No deal. He held his ground and forced my hand. Would I have to yank the hell out of him like so many spoiled little brats inside of that big store?

"I'll start giving them something next week," I told him. "It's too early to get all mushy about Christmas and all of this stuff. Let's go."

He looked away.

"You're embarrassed?" I asked? He kept looking away from me and sniffed the air again.

Now this is his first Christmas season so I was highly suspect about his knowledge of giving and bells and red kettles and such. But then I thought about it. He came from the pound. That's kind of like a homeless shelter. Maybe he heard some of the stories about cold, milkbonelerss nights. Maybe he heard about little brothers and sisters being taken away, never to be seen again. Maybe he was recalling the night the old dog in the corner slept away back in that drafty cage in the corner. Maybe he knew and he wanted me to change the world starting today.

Then again, maybe not.

"Come on, let's go," I said as I drug him away.