Sparky and I just completed our daily walk at Sunset Beach. We now are seaside, sitting in the back of the opened hatchback of the station wagon. We watch American tourists swill beer on the beach and then head up toward our car.
The woman says nicely to me, “What kind of dog is that?”
“It’s a catahoula.”
“Well, I’m from Lou-ziana and never saw a catahoula like that.”
“Looks more like a hog dawg to me,” snarls her redneck husband as he stomps away.
“Where’d ya’ git ‘er?” she inquires.
I explain that we acquired the dog at an animal shelter in New Mexico, moved to Washington DC, and now live on Bonaire.
“My, my,” exclaims the woman from Lafayette. “This dog has lived ‘round the world.”