Waiting Outside

The same dog from the other day – the more excitable one – was running around yesterday for the hour or two that I was at Bauhaus. He was playing with anyone who lingered. He was sniffing around an old man’s boot, and the man tried to shake him by turning away from him playfully. The dog circled with him, following the shoe with his nose. So the man spun around twice and the dog chased the foot, his tail sweeping the breadth of the sidewalk with each turn. The dog followed when the man walked away. He stopped when he got to the edge of the curb and watched the man walk across the street, or watched the man’s boot cross the street. A bicycle shot past and he raced it for twenty feet, keeping apace, stopping short at the corner again. I think that the game was to get as close to the curb as possible, stopping from as fast a speed as possible. That’s not the only way he gets his thrills. He also stood in the doorway for awhile to investigate what was going on inside, pointedly placing one foot over the threshold to see if he’d get caught being inside. I’ve called the dog “he”, though I have no idea if it was or not.

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