Who’s leading? Who’s following?
Taking time, making time
Twenty………twenty-five……….thirty……..
Lobito is busy sniffing the grey asphalt concrete…..
thirty-five……
Sighing with frustration, I look around for approaching cars, people, or dogs…..
forty……forty-five…..
I am tempted to pull the lead and hurry him along……
fifty…..
But something makes me resist…..
fifty-five…….sixty……sixty-five……seventy…..
Standing in the middle of the road, with the lead in one hand, I notice his nose close to the asphalt surface. “Is his nose touching the street?” I bend forward, taking another look. “Wait a second, is he licking?” I can’t tell. He turns his head, looking up towards me just for a second before returning to his street licking and sniffing.
seventy-five…..seventy-six…..seventy-seven….seventy-eight…..
In the middle of the road, the red lead lays in a loose clump. I hear car tires loudly screeching. I tug the lead hard, and we quickly get out of the car’s way.