As a teen, I had a black and tan feist named Rocky. She was untrained and unleashed. She never left the yard.
The four years in the late '70s in Pine Bluff were our first to live in a neighborhood, not the country. One summer evening a guy walked door to door carrying pamphlets. He didn't use the sidewalk. He walked in the street. I was in the driveway playing horse with my friend Carl. As the guy left next door and returned to the street, Rocky stood up and bristled.
She watched as the guy, in a white shirt, black pants, white socks and church shoes, approached the edge of her property. When he crossed the line, she bolted for him in a low growl, then circled behind him. She flashed teeth and nipped at his heels. He turned at the waist to watch her while shuffling forward to avoid each attack. After the first few steps, Rocky and the church guy began a beautiful dance. Her teeth flew like fists of fury, with Bruce Lee speed and precision, never fully making contact. I couldn't have called her off if I'd wanted to. All I could do was stare in fixed amazement and uncontrollable laughter. I had seen the movies: Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire. The church guy was better. He street balleted like Jets and Sharks. As he wheeled passed the mailbox, he invented the moonwalk.
She stopped just past the driveway. The church guy turned back to me and Carl, smiled and waved, then continued to the next house. I buried my face in my shirt and wiped the tears from my glasses. It was 's' to 'o', and I had a bank shot to make.
The four years in the late '70s in Pine Bluff were our first to live in a neighborhood, not the country. One summer evening a guy walked door to door carrying pamphlets. He didn't use the sidewalk. He walked in the street. I was in the driveway playing horse with my friend Carl. As the guy left next door and returned to the street, Rocky stood up and bristled.
She watched as the guy, in a white shirt, black pants, white socks and church shoes, approached the edge of her property. When he crossed the line, she bolted for him in a low growl, then circled behind him. She flashed teeth and nipped at his heels. He turned at the waist to watch her while shuffling forward to avoid each attack. After the first few steps, Rocky and the church guy began a beautiful dance. Her teeth flew like fists of fury, with Bruce Lee speed and precision, never fully making contact. I couldn't have called her off if I'd wanted to. All I could do was stare in fixed amazement and uncontrollable laughter. I had seen the movies: Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire. The church guy was better. He street balleted like Jets and Sharks. As he wheeled passed the mailbox, he invented the moonwalk.
She stopped just past the driveway. The church guy turned back to me and Carl, smiled and waved, then continued to the next house. I buried my face in my shirt and wiped the tears from my glasses. It was 's' to 'o', and I had a bank shot to make.
