What Kind of Dog That Is?…A Dog Tale

We walk early in the morning,

Before it gets hot,

Before the sunrise,

Before the birds serenade me a cappella,

While the frogs are still croaking,

The crickets are chirping,

Armadillos are foraging and

Cotton tails are darting into their dens, white flashes dotting the plains.

For a few moments I am the first human abroad.

Not for long.

Road work has been underway for months and sometimes, when the conditions are favorable, the asphalt layers, cement trucks and steamrollers are pressed into service and just as the sun is peeking over the horizon I will be surrounded by heavy machinery and their operators.

The Big Dog always draws attention to himself by dint of his size and bearing and as I shortened his lead to pass a group of laborers, one shouted to me, above the din of his truck,

“What kind of dog that is, Ma’am?”

I paused before I answered, knowing he wasn’t talking about the Westie, and having to curb myself from saying,

“Prairie Dog,” with a poker face.

Should I describe him as a Shepherd Lab Mix?


or a straight forward, common or garden, very royal…Corgi?


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