NEEDLING

This other morning, I was minding my own business chit chatting with Glenn when this girl rode by on her bicycle. People always riding by on bicycles in our neighborhood. Then she rode back and started talking to us. Glenn was sitting on the table reading the newspaper. I was sitting on the bench having my coffee, and neither one of us could understand what this girl was talking about. So I walked out the gate to greet her.

“I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

She was sitting on her bike leaning against the fence.

“Do you own a little white terrier?” She asks.
“No, I don’t.”
“Oh yeah, cause there’s this little white terrier I saw over there crossing the street.”
“Well... you know, there’re dogs everywhere in this neighborhood.”
“I was just wondering if you know who it belongs to, because it’s just running around on its own.”

I was talking to her directly then, dressed only in my blue jeans and some old shoes. I wasn’t wearing a shirt and I felt a little awkward.

“Don’t you think we should do something about it? I mean, I was riding my bike and I saw him crossing the street. He doesn’t seem like he belongs there or anything.”
“He probably lives in the area.” I was a little reluctant about the whole affair. I could see myself getting involved with chasing this stray dog so this girl could feel better about herself. And to be honest, I wanted to go back to my bench, shoot the shit with Glenn, have my coffee and not worry about no little white terrier running around the neighborhood being lost. One look at this girl, though, and I knew I wasn’t going to get out of it. She seemed bent on the matter. And intent on involving me.

Her bike was all beat up, she was wearing easy going clothes, kind of like what I usually wear. Probably in her mid to late twenties. She seemed nice enough, and I thought to myself, what’s a dog? You’re finally meeting some girl from the neighborhood.

“So you don’t know who it belongs to?” She said.
“No, I sure don’t... it’s probably fine, though...”
“It didn’t look starved or anything... and when I was riding by, it was minding its own business, you know... it wasn’t going through the trash can or anything... it doesn’t look as if it’s starving or anything like that...”
“It probably just lives right around the corner.”
“He’s got tags. Maybe we should catch him... or something.”
“Uhm...” I didn’t know if I should go back to my coffee or what... so I said, “okay... I better go put a shirt on...”
“You’re fine...”
“You think I’ll be alright?”
“Don’t worry about it...”

So we started walking down the street. Her on her bike walking like a penguin with her bike between her legs and me without a shirt on, my fat belly out for everybody to see, in search of a little white terrier who probably wanted to be left alone.