Friday morning in Sierra Madre - white-bearded man crouched on curb -a pug on each side - one yapping as ferociously as only a pug can. Across the street a young man pushing an acoustic lawnmower.
Where do they find someone to sharpen this relic?
At the crossroads - ginormous black mastiff-like dog, large black poodle, various others of lesser identity.
Several loose cats - MaeRose at leash-end tugging till her collar strangles. If she were a few pounds heavier, she and I would tumble. I have put the gentle lead back on Darby to slow him down - he is not lured by cats, just too eager to dash down the street at walk's onset.