Sissy and DeWayne

Two oldish girls walked down the street today with storm clouds threatening from the north/northeast. The warm moist air hit us in the face as we turned into the park. A "cold front" was on its way. It had been hard to start the walk today (creaky joints) and I was tempted to cut it short, but somehow something-a feeling that something special was ahead - called us onward.

The robot dog truck passed us and turned around to set up just inside the park. The people waved as did two yellow labby tails in the back window of the pickup. We turned around and found ourselves engaged in conversation. We discovered the dogs are, in fact, hunters in training. The trainers are Sissy and DeWayne (pronounced DEE Wayne).

It changes things, to know people's real names. The sense of community strengthens.

Banana man (David) had arrived and greetings were exchanged again. Sissy pronounced Paddy "A lucky dog" as a stray who found a family. I think we are the lucky ones.

We had no time to mull over our now altered friendships as our enemy watched us from the gate as we headed up the hill toward home. This is not the first time. Another dog often barks from a neighboring yard, but the dark one (of the attack) merely stands and watches. Sometimes it paces as if looking for a way to get out of the yard and to us.

So we thought about the enemy - until we were almost home.

Then we passed Mohawk dog and gang...and they serenaded us, two base barks, one tenor...a howling trio...Mohawk dog, the dane, and the boxer...perhaps we need to learn their names as well.