The big black dog came at me. It ran out on the road just ahead of the front wheel of my bike, looked backwards at me and barked.
"OK, OK"!
I stopped and the old friend walked over to me, tail wagging, and if dogs could smile - I swear she was smiling. I talked stuff to her in gentle tones as I stroked her graying muzzle. Talked about all the years on this road we had enjoyed, graying together. She loved it. Her owner called her to come back and it is amazing that after all the years I have stopped for this man's dog, he still doesn't get it: we are road family. And he probably doesn't realize he doesn't own all of his dog; there is a part that dog belongs to only me.
Awww, that's so sweet. I love those road friends. There's a special cat named Lulu that I have been friends with for years on my running route. Despite the fact that she's not mine, I would miss her if she was gone and look forward to greeting her every time I go by.
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