Thursday, February 4, 2010
At the bottom of the hill, where my street begins, lives an ancient Shetland sheepdog I call the Mayor of Whittle Avenue. The Mayor is an elderly gentleman, stiff of haunch and white of muzzle, but he still patrols the street faithfully, every morning and evening. He walks slowly but purposefully, up one side of Whittle and down the other. When a car turns up Whittle the Mayor will amble into the middle of the narrow lane, forcing the car to stop so he can inspect it. When he recognizes the driver--me, for instance--he gives a curt nod: Carry on. I feel safer knowing the Mayor is on duty. He's got my vote.
Posted by Tai at 9:27 AM