Blondie

This month, D and I are dogsitting this adorable little girl.

She's allegedly a fat whippet, which is like a fatter version of a greyhound.

She LOVES to run, and in particular to chase or be chased. But she's ridiculously fast, so D and I came up with the brilliant solution of riding our bicycles with her. This has worked out excellently, except for the other day. Blondie, D and I rode through the nearby park, which is on my way to work. At the end of the park, we parted ways and I rode off to go earn money. A few minutes later, I started to receive some texts:

        D: I can't move the dog. She keeps staring, looking for you. I can hardly even drag her.

[D said later that he truly, literally, couldn't move the dog. She's not a big dog, but D also had the bike to mind and didn't want to drag her by the collar.]

       M: hahaha, oh no! Have you managed to get her going yet?

       D: No. I might have to go to the Bell Tower.

       M: No way really??

       D: I relented and we got as far as the boathouse where she saw a fake M cycling the other way.
            So I tricked her with my M voice and we made it home. Now she's looking for you.

[I asked D what his fake M voice sounded like; it was hilariously high-pitched.]


So I think the dog likes me. ^_^