The streets of New York are a veritable nose-feast for a dog. Sidewalks, building corners, fire hydrants, and scaffolding supports offer up a big banquet of smells that only a dog could love.
City canine owners snap the leash on the dog's collar and head toward the park, hoping for a brisk walk or jog. But after a couple of hopeful strides - yank! - the dog has found a message from another dog, left cryptically next to the curb, and simply must smell what it has to say. Woe be to the leash-holder who is not prepared to be tugged left, right, left, left again, no right, ooh! what's up ahead?, right during Poochie's perambulation.
The other day some smug-ass wrote in to the paper to tell how he always brought bottled mineral water with him to wash down the curb/sidewalk when his dog took a pee. Another guy wrote in to say that not only was mineral-water-guy unbearable pretentious but that since Rover's pee is kind of like doggie-email, he was -in effect - deleting all of his dog's email responses to "messages" left along the way.
So I try to be patient with Bailey on our walks as she reads and responds to all her "pee-mail." I guess it replaces the "twilight bark" made famous in 101 Dalmations.