TWO OLD LADIES AND SOME DOGS!

Carrying my cellphone, shutting the mailbox, I couldn't resist a little walk down the county road.

Old neighbor ladies were no where to be seen but I could hear hollering.

On the way back I heard, "PAM-M-M!"

So, I turned my head over my right shoulder and sure enough there was the older one, Eda, just a waving, flagging me down.  She was dressed nice!  Pastel blue paisley top with slacks, no robe did she wear.  She also had a more calm and pleasant look in her demeanor!

We approached each other on the black paved drive.

Hearing more hollering from the back yard, I asked her, "Who's she yelling at?"

"The dog.  Her son's dog. We have to keep him in the garage back there," she said in her smoker's voice.

She wasn't a dirty blonde anymore, and the frizz was gone.  She had what they call a Klute Cut, but this lady called it Jane Fonda Hair.  It was gray and feathered and shaggy, and she was just a'beaming.

"I took in a picture this big (she made a square with her fingers) of Jane Fonda and told them I wanted a haircut like hers."

Up came the other old lady, Wendy, in a teal top and billowing pants.  She had been to the office and looked nice herself!  She helped herself, too, to running her fingers through Eda's hair.  Reaching over, she fluffed and fingered the new do, ruffling it up.

"It looks good on her, doesn't it?"  They beamed at each other, then to me, and then beamed at each other again.

I'm always up for a good story and they're always ready to tell me one.  But today, no oral stories.  Just real-life action.

Eda proudly pulled back her garments to show me her healing skin; the bruises and open wound and stitches from the previous dog bites were gone.   Then she went in the house returning to us with STERLING, the rat terrier, on a leash!  Oh, boy!

Barking his fool head off at me, Sterling was at the end of his rope!

It was too much.  She turned around and took the dog barking back inside.  

Keep in mind they have 4 dogs in the house and one quarantined in the back garage.  All the while you visit, all dogs bark and claw at the window.  The women are used to it -- never hear, never see.  I do.  Dogs should behave.

Next thing I know, the door opens, the leash that was on STERLING is now on BULLDOG, Sterling is running full bore at me, and "Holy cow!" a Pomeranian scampers out!  In and out and between them all  she bounces and weaves and then comes straight at me, pell mell!  I put up my foot to actionate a "Halt!"  

STERLING backs up to accost Wendy instead. The Pom, Rosie, briefly pauses then commences barking, going around and around and around their car like a crazed fly!  Meanwhile both women are hollering at their chosen canine to scold, high volume frustration.  Bark-bark.  Yip, yip, yip.  Wo-of!  It's pandemonium!

Wendy starts repeating, loudly over the din of cacophony, "Car!  Car!  Car!"  She opens the back door of her car and two go in and one comes out.  The orange fluff ball Rosie, takes up running again in a frenzy around the car, yipping as she goes!

Sterling stays in.  The call of "Car" was the cat's meow to him!

Where'd that Bulldog go?

Too much for me.  Wishing them the best, I said my good-byes.

Wendy was carrying the pom back to her front door and squeaking a reprimand, "Bad doggie, you're supposed to come when I call you.  I'm mad at you!  You're a bad dog!"

What a trip!  

We all got a trip.

I chanced a backward glance.  In the backseat of their white car, sitting upright, ears pointing skyward, was a black shadow of a dog.  

STERLING!  They forgot Sterling.

STERLING wants a trip!