Mrs. W., me, two other walkers, and a jogger. I’m glad about it. It makes this feel like, somehow, a rural neighborhood. Like we all live out in the kind of country, but we can get to know each other on sight.
Plus, I like knowing that, if I’m hit by a car or something, someone might stumble across me.
But it also makes me feel like I live in a neighborhood full of badasses. I notice that a lot of the people I would guess to be in their late 50s, early 60s and older walk with huge walking sticks. At first, I thought this was just some weird cultural thing, like everyone in Whites Creek was practicing in case they were called on to become a wizard or something. But I’ve also seen guys walking with a golf club, so it dawned on me that it’s a stray dog/coyote whooping stick.
Smart. Not that I’ve run into many strays, but people do have a tendency to dump animals out here.
So, yes, people, you should know, before you dump your animal out in the “country” thinking one of us will pick it up and care for it, that its likely life is to either get hit by a car, eaten by coyotes, or have its head bashed in by my bad-ass neighbors. If you do not want the end of your dog’s life to be it alone, frightened, and in tremendous pain, don’t be dumping it off up here.
Whew, that ended on a depressing note.