Two walks in 18 hours

Yesterday, Mom and I went for a walk at Blue Hills again. We followed the same route we did before, just in the other direction. We didn't see anyone, not even my friend Reggie. I think he'd been there, though. I sure smelled him all over the place, in that field by the parking lot!

Later that night, Mom was cooking and Dad decided he would bring me down into the basement to watch the Celtics. I cried and cried until Dad brought me back up to the kitchen where Mom was, where I lay down on the floor and watched her cook. I was so happy I didn't even get under her feet! Later on we went back downstairs, both Mom and I, and that was better. She doesn't like the Celtics half as much as she likes the Patriots, but she was happy enough to play tug with me and my Fling A Fowl.

Then this morning, Mom had to go to the bank. She decided she would bring me. They're going to be gone all day, and she wanted me to have a little fun and feel like I went someplace. She loves me very much! Anyway, it was bitterly cold, but guess what? Because of a holiday earlier this week, people had their garbage out on Saturday, and while I didn't eat any of it I got to sniff it ALL. We made it to the bank. Mom didn't think there would be anyone there, because it was so early, but there were people getting ready to open the bank. I was so happy! They were so happy! Everyone was a dog person, and the head teller even brought out a treat for me. They petted me, and let me lean on them, and rubbed my neck and scritched under my collar so much I thought I'd gone to Heaven. This was Citizens' Bank, for those looking for a bank with nice people who like dogs.

Mom had to get home, so we left, but we took a slightly different route. We met two new dogs, being walked by a man. These were little dogs. I don't know what they were. They looked like someone hit a Shih Tzu with a shrink ray. Mom assured the man that I was friendly (just in case there was any doubt.) The man says, "They aren't. They think they're pit bulls. They're my wife's dogs." It was true - they were snarling and snapping and straining at their leashes. I don't know what they thought they were going to do, they were smaller than the cats at home. I wanted to play with them anyway, but Mom thought that might not be the best idea so we came home.

Mom wanted me to add this thought. The man said his tiny dogs thought they were Pit Bulls. Mom says she used to live with a Pit Bull. He was a beautiful and wonderful dog, even sweeter than I am. He did not snarl and snap at other dogs, and he only strained at the leash if he thought you had ice cream. He liked to lie in the sun, climb up the jungle gym and slide down the slide. Maybe if these dogs thought they were Pit Bulls, maybe Tigger thought he was a Newfie? I don't know. I'll bet Tigger didn't need half as much combing as these two, though!