D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

I hobbled home from the bus by a different route this morning. There's a house where the elderly couple live in their two-car garage with the door up throughout the sunny part of the year. They have had two chihuahuas - I think only one survives - that they keep in the side yard, with a square hole cut in the fence at barking level. And a fluffy little anklebiter who goes everywhere with them, unleashed. There is no fence whatsoever in front of the house. Walking a dog on that block can be dangerous. But this morning I drew level with their front lawn and . . . out ran half a dozen little brown anklebiters and surrounded me, yapping. Then out came old Whitey, panting a bit, to join in. Then the old guy, picking them up from the gutter and under the car. Luckily nobody got bitten. Even the two that had started a scrap didn't have a chance to land a good chomp on each other.