mnvnjnsn's Diary

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2003-06-18

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Hot Dog

This will probably not do much to champion the idea that I am not a stalker and you should send me your mailing address so I can send you cool stuff, but I'm obsessed with a dog in my neighborhood.

His name is Ty, or Tie, or Tye, but we call him Neville. He looks like a Neville. He is a Tri-color Cardigan Welsh Corgie. They are the ones who have heads and bodies like regular dogs, but look like all but two inches of leg have been cut off.

Neville comes to the grade school across the street from our house every day with one or both of his parents. Their timing is usually perfect, with them just arriving at the playground as I'm pulling in the driveway. I think maybe Mom and Dad Neville think I must be crazy, the way I race from the car into the house. Little do they know it is to throw myself on the love seat at the window to watch their dog and wiggle in delight. The dog owners often stand and chat while the dogs gleefully chase whatever is thrown. Neville is surprisingly fast, often beating out dogs three times his height, and when he doesn't get the ball, he races around the holder grinning from pointy head to stubby toe. He is almost blindingly adorable.

Every now and then, I will time my "gardening" in the front yard to coincide with their departure. We tend to keep our front lawn on the long and unkempt side of things, and Neville likes to roll about in the cool grass. While he does this, I usually reiterate to Mrs. Neville how in love with her dog I am, and she accepts this with grace that betrays how often people must say this to her.

I am trying to get on her good side. Surely they will need someone nearby to watch the dog when they take a vacation, and surely they will take a vacation. I've got to find a way to get me on the short list. I've got to.

I've shared this plan with Trevor Dunnigan and he is troubled. He says I am stalking a dog, and that so much cuteness in one package can't be good for my health. Bah!

4:16 p.m. - 2003-06-18

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