Citizen Canine

 

It was a whimper.

That’s how it starts, always. When she looks up at me, the lower parts of her brown eyes are pure white. That makes her look as though she’s wearing a saggy mask.  It’s a daily thing with its own simple protocol. I should be grateful my dog Minnie lets me know when she has to go. I live in a condo and tight spaces drive her nuts. But on this day, our afternoon walk turned odd. 

Minnie looks like "Predator," but has the intimidation factor of Michael Cera.

Our routine takes us near Sugar Land City Hall. Every day we stroll by, adjacent to the parking lot there. Minnie finds a scent intoxicating on the lawn. So much does she like how it smells that she poops everywhere. 

Minnie

I follow up with a wrinkled Target bag, the most resilient of all the grocery and superstore bags I’ve tried over the years. But on this day, Minnie curiously walked on the other side of a pedestrian pole. I didn’t notice because I was looking up doggie bibs on Amazon. By the time I looked down, she was fully tangled and making it worse by freaking out.

I decided to stay clear. Let her figure it out. And when Minnie wiggled out of her red harness, she just took off. I watched her gallop towards City Hall. I kind of just stood there. This had happened once before, and it had gotten weird. Her direction was aimed at the front stairs.

I gave chase. Unfortunately, I’m not as spry as I used to be, and never quite got up to full speed. As Minnie approached the steps, a car she ran in front of slammed on the brakes. And as I watched my dog disappear through an opened City Hall door, the driver side window rolled down.

An elderly woman with high grey hair and cat-eyed glasses with a sparkly neck chain shouted, “what a beautiful animal!” I nodded, waved and smiled and finally got to the stairs. I limped up 15 of them and got through the City Hall entrance. I figured I would just follow the mayhem. Minnie is not only not a threat, she’s actually afraid of people. Especially children. When we go to a park, she can’t have fun. And she’s prone to running away from toddlers. This place was nothing but a snow globe of threats to her. 

Where the hell is she? I don’t see anyone backing up in terror. I don’t hear screams of fear from Minnie’s menacing size and shape. Her shoulders look like glaciers and her form has been compared to a greyhound. God, I hope she didn’t run upstairs to Mayor Carol McCutcheon’s office. 

In the end, I never went through the metal detector. And I thought it unwise to ask security where my 71-pound dog was. I left the building, gathered myself and made my way home. Upon arriving at the entrance gate, I saw Minnie sitting patiently and panting. She’d had an adventure. But we didn’t discuss it. I put her red harness back on and we went back home.