Tanner, the neighbor's dog

Had to get out and walk some today - the wind and the cold don't really keep me from my daily rounds'. But the slick surface makes me walk in tiny little mincing steps and fills my head with visions of legs and arms going every which way and the rest of my body, after a brief period of being airborne, coming into solid contact with good old Mother Earth. Not nice, so I make minimum walking in such conditions. Did however go down to the mail box both this morning and this afternoon.

When I do walk, every now and then a neighborhood dog, I call her Maggie, will run out and fall all over me and insist on escorting me up and down the road. She's a little cutie and full of energy and friendliness and pays me no nevermind if I should ask her to do something, like get to the side of the road to avoid the oncoming 3 ton mass of steel barreling down on us from the west.

Another dog in the neighborhood, I called him George, will always greet me when I get to the bottom of the hill at the start of my travels and then again when I return thirty or forty minutes later. Lately I've been stopping and responding to his greetings, for a few minutes at least, just enough to ware him down a bit, let him get his talking done so he doesn't stay up all night trying to say another thing or two. Today I learned, from one of his mistresses, his real name: Tanner. Tanner, I called out rather than George as I went back up the hill from a walk to the mail box. Tanner. He didn't seem to mind my using the name. I mean by that that he responded in just about the same fashion as when I called him George. But I'm sure it makes a difference. I imagine dogs, just like people, enjoy being remembered and addressed with their very own name. Tanner. Gotta remember that now. Wonder if he came about that name from being a little more tan than the dog that lived there previously? Of course, he might have been a real tanner in a previous life, you know, someone who works skins. Or maybe someone thought he might be worth about sixpense, which isn't all that much to my way of thinking, sixpense being a tanner for the Brits. Guess it doesn't make much difference, one way or the other. Tanner.

Getting to be about dinner time. Enchiladas tonight. Already smelling awfully good.