Paisley

I finally met my next door neighbor’s renter, with her two dogs, when my dog dragged me over there.  She’s got a full sized Doberman, and an itty bitty French Bulldog.  What a great way to meet … my dog dragging me across the lawn between our houses to their fence.  Our dog was on leash.  Hers were within the fence.

Her Doberman is a doll.  Really, he is.  His name is Paisley.  As is typical for a Doberman, he stood back a few feet, watched me for a while, then decided to come up to the fence, sniff the back of my hand, and give me a slurpy kiss.  When he did that, Ben spooked him by barking.  Goddammit, Ben!  I suppose the good news is that both dogs are 10 years old, and are as spunky as ever.  Not bad for medium sized breeds.

Not the best way to meet a new neighbor, though.  Hopefully, I will be forgiven, and she (and the house owner) will be able to attend my cookout later this month.  It’s one of those things this time of year when you invite 20, and a dozen can make it.  Even a dozen is good for a casual friendly afternoon with food and booze.  Dogs not welcome, and we will keep ours indoors, but kids are welcome, and they can find kid-friendly food, along with a frisbee.  Going in the pool will not be allowed w/o parental supervision.  Dem’s da rules.

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