morning walk

E. got here last night and we had a good time catching up on what's been going on in all our lives. She joined us for the evening walk with Franklin and we ended up next door with a small gathering of neighbors chatting around a moveable fire pit.

In the townlet, this is the time of year when we burn wood in portable fire pits, glad to be able to tell stories and be outside, free of bugs and heat or snow and ice. The chili-cookoff last weekend was next door, with fires, a band, lots of pots of chili, salads and desserts out on tables.

Coming up is the proggressive drink night, where different families provide a station of drinks and light food. Each segment is timed. If one is not careful, one might be tipsy by the last station.

Talk last night was about the sudden rash of car break-ins in our neighborhood. A group of people are coming in at night and rifling through cars. Often the cars are unlocked. One was unlocked and had an extra key in the console. It was stolen.

I think we will have to organize a volunteer watch between two and four am for a few days if we want to better protect the neighborhood.

Since partner and I used to live in DC, where all the houses in our neighborhood had bars on the window, I am used to dealing with this kind of crime. But not in this neighborhood. This appears to be a systematic, repeated effort. We should lock our cars. The Sheriff's department doesn't appear to be helping us.

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny Autumn day. But this morning was cloudy, and the weathermen predicted rain all day. During our walk this morning, we met a lady with a little mutt terrier. She lives in a gated condo complex a few blocks from the townlet. She recognized me first.

When I first got Franklin, I saw this woman walking down the street with a Scotty. Franklin was only about three months old by this time, maybe four. We started talking, and for several days, we walked together. Her dog was a female, about nine years old. I haven't seen her since that time.

This morning, she told me that she had to put down her dog recently. It was her third Scotty. Now she has this nice mixed breed dog from the pound. I thought at some point she was going to cry. When we came back around on the loop and passed her again, I could see that there was a moment that was hard for her.

We also met Emma, a beautiful Shelty that is about a year younger than Franklin. She is very bossy to him, and unlike other dogs that he is ready to take on in true terrier fashion, he let's her get away with it.

Dogs don't live long enough. When I had Franklin in for a check-up when he was a puppy, I noticed a young man in his thirties sitting in the waiting room, holding an old Dalmation. He told me that he had had this dog since he was a 8 weeks old. The vet came into the waiting room and sat down next to him. "You know," he said, "we've talked about this. It's the beginning of the end. At his age, things are starting to shut down."

Only a moment before, I had been sitting there, happy with my little puppy. Seeing this young man with this old dying dog reminded me one again that life has an end. Since that moment, I've tried to enjoy my dog and be appreciative of him in our lives. We don'[t have that much time together.