Uncle Dogwalker

The neighbors have a dog, and it's the sweetest pit bull you can imagine. Her name is Gretta, and she is dangerous only in the sense that her enthusiasm for new friends sometimes is more powerful than her ability to control her bulky frame. She's just an adorable thing, and it's a real treat when, occasionally, she needs a walk that can't be provided by her loving owners. The kind of unconditional love that you get from a dog is priceless.

I have an ulterior motive. I've always had the idea that women are drawn to a man with a cute pet, or a less-than cute pet who highlights his sense of compassion. It's the sort of thing that softens an otherwise rough around the edges image. I can always use some softening, and so I stroll out with the dog in hopes that a lady who might not give me much of a glance will suddenly see fit to give me a glance and then some. That may be too much to ask.

That's gravy anyway. She really is an adorable thing, and a fantastic listener besides. She reminds me of the deaf mute in Carson McCullers' "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter". People are constantly opening up to him for whatever reason. I suppose that he can't tell them to stop it, and Gretta is the same. Whatever I have to say, she listens to with an utterly non-judgmental bearing. She could make a whole lot of money as a Freudian analyst.

I do pay a price for the benefits she confers. It's quite a workout to walk her, and this is doubly true in the heat. She's always straining against the leash for one reason or another. I hope it's not just that she wants away from me. She seems to enjoy getting close to strangers, but her great passion is making the acquaintance of squirrels. She will be the last on Earth to abandon any hope that she might be able to leap all the way up the tree in a single bound to get one. For that inspiration alone, it's worth it to walk her.