This hasn't been an interesting or exciting weekend for me at all, as I've come down with a rather unpleasant head cold, and am incredibly headachy and mildly feverish. Yuck. But in the interest of posting something on the blog...
There's a vet clinic around the corner from my house that I walk past every day. They often have dogs tied up out front. I think (although I'm not sure) these are dogs that are being boarded at the clinic, but that are too big and/or full of energy to be kept cooped up in a tiny crate all day. I'm not sure how much better off they are tied up on a super-short leash (any longer and they'd be able to run into the busy street), but they don't seem particularly unhappy.
A couple of weeks ago, a large Siberian Husky type was tied up out front. And when I say "large" I mean really freaking huge. This boy's back came up to the bottom of my ribcage. I'm pretty short, but even so, dogs that aren't Great Danes don't generally come close to that height.
He was absolutely beautiful. And he didn't like me. Now, if you know me in real life, or if you've been reading this blog for a while, you should know that whenever I see a dog or cat, the very first thing I want to do is pet it. While this fellow didn't seem at all opposed to me squatting down and taking his photo, whenever I held out my hand to him, he would sniff it, and then emit a subtle yet forceful growl. "I don't mind you being here, but don't think about touching me." For several days, whenever I walked past I would stop and talk to him, in an effort to get him accustomed to me. Then this sign appeared on the tree to which he was tied: