It was an absolutely beautiful sunny day. Temps in the low 80's and I was taking a walk around the block in town.
I got whistled at!
I haven't been whistled at since the grocery store clerk started calling me ma'am.
Okay, maybe they weren't whistling at me. I had just gotten Syrus from the groomer's and my car was blocked. I was taking him around the block waiting for the other car to leave. He looked amazing. Almost all his puppy fur is gone now and his coat was so shiny in the sun. He trotted with his head up, tail slightly waving. Just the picture of power and grace. He knew it too, the show-off.
I'm a little worried about guys in pick-ups whistling at a dog, but I guess it's better than them yelling out, "Hey granny, what kind of a dog is that"?
