Yesterday the weather was nice so
I went for a walk around the neighborhood. I walked along the sidewalk lined with
maple and crab apple trees, enjoying the bright sun and the clear sky. At the
end of the block I saw little Missy sitting at the edge of her family’s yard,
near the driveway.
She sat on a metal folding chair next to a collapsible card table. At her feet was her dog, Rufus, lying rather dejectedly inside his crate. Beside them both was a large cardboard sign, hand-lettered to advertise: “DOG FOR SALE! CHEAP!”
I waved at Missy and greeted her and then asked about her sign. “Why are you selling Rufus? You’ve had that dog for years. That mutt loves you.”
She sat on a metal folding chair next to a collapsible card table. At her feet was her dog, Rufus, lying rather dejectedly inside his crate. Beside them both was a large cardboard sign, hand-lettered to advertise: “DOG FOR SALE! CHEAP!”
I waved at Missy and greeted her and then asked about her sign. “Why are you selling Rufus? You’ve had that dog for years. That mutt loves you.”
She answered without looking at
me. “I’m selling the dog ‘cause he barks and snarls at me.”
This surprised me. “Is he dangerous? Has Rufus bitten you, or any of the other neighborhood kids?”
“No.” She said. She still made no eye contact. “He just barks and snarls and gets mean. And only when I stab him with my pocket knife.”
This surprised me. “Is he dangerous? Has Rufus bitten you, or any of the other neighborhood kids?”
“No.” She said. She still made no eye contact. “He just barks and snarls and gets mean. And only when I stab him with my pocket knife.”
No comments:
Post a Comment