I walked the dog this morning.

Or she walked me.

We came to a full stop no fewer than six times. We changed direction twice and even backtracked once.

The men painting the house down the road alerted each other in Spanish to Charlie’s approach. They turned and smiled at her. She stopped to observe their work. I told her I had treats hidden in my pocket when I spotted a clump of her white fur flying directly into the freshly painted red door. We made a hasty retreat.

The little boy at the rummage sale a little farther on asked if I ever pet her nose. I said sometimes. He informed me she really liked it so I should do it more. Then he took the leash and they trotted right over to his mom, whom Charlie greeted with a sniff in the hoo-ha. I took the leash back and we left. I didn’t see anything I needed at that garage sale anyway.

The lady at the next rummage sale said Charlie was a polar bear and was soon hypnotized by her lengthy gaze, “Polar bears only live in zoos and the arctic and they will eat your face off. But I? I will gaze into your eyes until you fall in love. I am far better than any polar bear. Yes, keep scratching…right there.” The lady eventually confessed to having no treats. We left.

At the next stop, a mere 20 or 30 steps from our front door, Charlie became obsessed with a certain spot in the yard. I had a nice chat with the neighbor while Charlie probed, nose first in what seemed to be a hole. Hard to say exactly what was so fascinating, but she got over it pretty quick when the sprinkler head popped out.

We finally made it home and now she sleeps in her favorite place, behind the chair, curled up like a kenneled puppy. She liked the walk, I could tell by the pool of slobber on the floor when I gave her a treat.

Life is swirling around us. It’s almost summer, the kids are taking finals, baseball season has grabbed us by the throat, and the calendar is full-up with holidays, graduations, weddings and work. But Charlie can’t make heads nor tails of the Google calendar. She doesn’t open the mail, and if she could text, it would be something along the line of: “buy mo’ bacon, yo!” (She’s a hipster at heart.)

There are days when I could totally be a dog.

So, I will leave you with one of my most favorite non-people pictures I took last year because it makes me happy and because Charlie likes S’Mores (sans chocolate, of course.)

~Bb