After it snows, there is ample evidence of the number of dogs in our neighborhood. Of course, our dog insists on stopping to sniff every single yellow spot left by the other dogs, because they're right on the surface and therefore that much more accessible. It's not such a big deal when it's 30 degrees, but on a night like this when the temperature is flirting with 10, it can be a comfort issue. The dog doesn't seem to notice the cold; she still wants her outside time.
Also, when I was out with the dog this afternoon, a man driving a National Grid van stopped to ask me about an address. He then told me I was going to heaven because I had adopted a greyhound. That wasn't among our motivations at the time, but I'll take it.
03 January 2013
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