Dog owners in a neighborhood know who each other are. They may not be personally acquainted, may never have had a conversation because of the need to keep moving and avoid confrontation. But we all know the Lady with the Goldendoodle, the Guy with the Pointer, that Fellow with the Three Tangled Leashes. We sometimes wave, smile, or call "good morning," but we keep moving because we don't know what might happen if our animals get up close and personal. Sniffing could lead to growling and nipping and biting or even be by-passed altogether in favor of aggression.
Not long ago, we were out front, all three of us. Lizzy had made the requested puddle and was being praised. Lavishly. And down the sidewalk came the Man with the Old Golden. He paused. Lizzy hid behind one of us and the Golden sat placidly. The Man admired our puppy. We chatted just a bit. He sympathized with the loss of Blackberry. Lizzy poked her head out and considered approaching the Golden. The conversation ended and they walked on.
As we headed into the house, I remarked to Joe, "I've never met him before. What a nice man!"
"Nance," he replied. "That's the guy with the big Trump banner on his house."
I've heard a lot of bad things about Pit Bulls. So I tend to steer very clear of them. But a sweet friend has adopted one, and he's really a very nice animal when I got to know him.
A lot to think about right now.