This seems to have been the week for being watched by dogs. Not in the “furtive glance then look away ’cause hey there’s a squirrel!” kind of way, but in the “I’ve got my eye on you boyo, so watch your step” way.
The first was a pair of pooches in a truck at the post office. There they were, sitting like humans — butt flat on the seat, leaning back — and calmly watching me walk back to my truck. Their heads swiveled in unison to follow me, like a pair of sunflowers tracking the path of the sun. Not once did they stir, not once did they bark, not once did they blink, not once did they take their eyes off me until I had pulled away and entered traffic. It was an eerie ghost twins in The Shining moment.
The second was a big ‘ol boy with his head out the window at a stoplight. The light had just turned red, and we were going to be there for a few minutes. This fellah’ sat there with his mug stuck out, and just watched me. Nothing on the face of this earth could pull his attention away from me — not a cat, not another human in another car, not the other dog in the car with him that was methodically gnawing his hind leg off. He even barked at me for having the audacity of pulling away from him when the light changed.