By David Wood
We’ve lived in Town Creek for five years and never enjoyed living in a neighborhood more. Our “village” is a collection of beautiful homes on well-kept grounds, is conveniently located and boasts hundreds of friendly residents. It’s a quirky Pleasantville. Most of the people I know in the neighborhood, though, I met through their pups.
With our wide, shady streets and beloved creek trails, we are a neighborhood of walkers, most of whom have a leash or two wrapped around their wrists. Dogs engage with each other first, pulling their humans closer than most strangers usually stand. I’ve almost always known the dog’s name long before their human’s.
Please write to me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you’d like to send in a photo and a story about your canine companion(s) for the next or subsequent issues of the Crier. But since I’m sitting here on a gloriously sunny Sunday writing this, I am going to start with our pooch, Harrison Ford.
Harrison is a rescue pup. His first year on Earth was pretty sad, but he landed in heaven in August 2018, and he’s nice enough to share it with us. He has a girlfriend named Lucy but he cheats on her with several other Town Creek beauties. His favorite place in the world is our creek path, with our bed being a close second. His favorite snack is applesauce.
With jet black ears and a black tramp stamp on his otherwise white body, he’s hard to miss. If you see us on one of our daily walks, come on over and bark hello.