Big Dog

A dog would be the thing, she thought, now that she lived alone, a big dog that
looked rather scary, and barked, a watchdog, but one that was actually gentle, a
companion, a big lovable fur ball. She adopted a dog from the pound, Arthur,
who was part German shepard and part golden retriever. She got all his shots and
had him neutered. She got a retractable leash for walks, morning and evening,
after work. Walk time. Arthur is happy, sniffing and pulling this way and that. She
calls and pulls back. She has a big dog on a leash but she is going where he wants
to go.

Crossroad Blues

As these things go, there are no other cars on the road for miles and we
arrive simultaneously at the four-way stop at the junction of the Munger-
Shaw Road and Yggdrasill Road, he in his big four-by-four Ford pickup
and me in my beat-up old Chrysler. Because I’m feeling magnanimous and
he’s on my right, I motion to him to go ahead. Then he waves me to go
first. Then we both start and both come to a sudden halt. I motion again for
him to go. Then the son-of-a-bitch flips me the bird. Well screw you
mister, and I flip him the bird right back. Neither of us moves. One of us
has to go first but I’ll be damned if it’s going to be me.