A walk around the block

Unsettled weather Thursday evening, and when I walked the boyz around the block after their dinner (and before mine), all the dogs in the neighborhood were on High Alert.

The walk went something like this: Head down the front walk, turn right, past Andy and Amanda's house. Stop for a sniff at the white house where the cab driver lives. Dog inside goes nuts.

Down the block another house or two, and the two ancient furry dogs who always rush the fence and bark at us (and have been rushing the fence and barking at us since Toby was around) rush the fence and bark. Boscoe gets behind me, twists my arm behind my back, rushes the fence in his ancient and game way. Barks.

We move on.

At Debbie's house, Gunther paws at the front window and barks. We note that Debbie has cut a nice big square out of the curtain so he can see out; now that's a dog-owner. Riley stares him down but does not bark.

At the corner, the beagle in the upstairs apartment barks and bays.

We turn right, head up the grassy verge by the railroad tracks. Eddie, the feisty and unfixed terrier who lives two houses down, gets off his leash somehow and approaches. He sinks into the grass in a Riley-like puma stance, staring, then bolts straight toward the boys. Jimmy, his owner, calls to him. Eddie ignores Jimmy. All three dogs go ballistic. We extricate ourselves and move on.

Around the corner, past the two eerily silent huskies (all dogs stare ominously at one another; no one barks, but the electricity in the air is not just from the upcoming lightning). Past the house where the little white dog paws at the screen door and shrieks. Around the corner and past the house with the lovely gardens; the cocker spaniel in the back yard gives us what-for. Down the street and back toward home.

We pass the dark gray house where Aisling the boxer mix lives. Usually she just stares from the front picture window like a dog statue, but this night she almost breaks through the screen trying to get to us. Her owner calmly shuts the door in the nick of time, saying, as he does so, a cheerful, "Hi."

Home again, where everyone collapses in exhaustion and waits for the rain. I think the only dog on the bark who didn't bark at us was Abigail.

My book galleys arrived. They look pretty good; the background colors on the cover have been dialed down a notch or two, and the title stands out much better. The book will be available for pre-order on amazon (both U.S. and U.K.) very soon.

Nature note: Blessed rain overnight. Riley hid from the thunder in the bathroom. The lilacs that punctuate our neighborhood are at their peak, and so fragrant they bring tears to my eyes. (To Doug's eyes, too, but for me it's nostalgia and for him it's allergies.)