The ratio of days we remember the camera to days that are rainy have not been in favor of puppy snapshots in Jenkintown. Still, the sun must come out eventually, even during monsoon season.
And when it does, we are sure to see the two sun-worshiping ladies from the apartment down the street, as was the case last week. And when they’re out soaking in the ambient photons — a little too often for the taste of this cancer center employee — so is their dog, Cassie.
Cassie is a compact lab mix, just perfect, I’m sure for hopping in his owners’ jeep and heading to the Jersey shore. He is also as freaked out as you’d imagine an apartment dog in a town full of stray cats. He has no territory to really call his own, yet he must deal with the constant insult of feline intrusion. A nervous wreck, really.
After that, we went a long while before finding any street-walking pups. I don’t like taking pictures of dogs in yards or, worse, yelping out of house windows, for fear somebody will think I’m teaching my daughter how to peep — or, even worser, that I’m teaching her how to peep ineffectively, out in the open, during daylight.
We have our pride, after all.
Just before turning back down Greenwood toward home, we saw this pooch, Pookie, a toy poodle, across the street. Pookie’s daily walks are regular sight in the neighborhood, captured here for the first time. While certainly cute and pup-like, Pookie is a bit of a codger at, I believe, nine.
Last Thursday, the
1811th (d’oh), we saw a bunch of snakes (OK, two big ones and a baby) sunning themselves on the rocks along the Wissahickon in front of Valley Green Inn. A lady there vehemently claimed that they were water moccasins, but I tend to think that they are northern water snakes. (No, I mean vehemently, like, almost angry. Just snakes, lady, chill. You ain’t Ranger Rick.)
Last night we took The Little Girl Across The Street with us on our evening walk. You can never be too sure with those two, either they get along like sisters…or they get along like sisters. They were both fairly well behaved, but grumbled when we took a side trip to the post office to check Aly’s PO box. After a short, albeit heated, discussion on who was, in fact, line leader (me…always), we stopped by to say hello to our neighbor who was gathered with his fellow volunteers out front of the fire department. I have to mention that it was Pioneer, of course, Jenkintown has two about a block apart for historical/religious reasons.
(Have I ever mentioned that Jenkintown is a weird burg?)
They plied us with fire-themed coloring books, tattoos and plastic helmets, in an effort to reduce the stockpile some. The fire company must have invested heavily in handouts at one point, since we’ve received a lot of them in recent years. We must have thirty plastic fire helmets rolling around the house from all the community events, pre-school visits and our neighbor’s whims. They are always appreciated, especially since the tattoos feature dalmatians. Julia was sporting one at the time, coincidentally.
As we were trying to keep the girls from strangling Benny with his fire helmet, The Little Girl Across The Street spotted a dog. It was one we’ve seen previously (A.K.A. Molly) , but I had forgotten to record her name. The Little Girl Across The Street snapped the shot of the puppy we now know as Sadie.
Alas The Little Girl Across The Street was getting tired, so we dropped her off at home and kept going. Good thing, too, otherwise we never would have been able to get this extreme closeup of Wilson.
Wilson is a five year-old Shar Pei pup — a little bigger, but not as ugly as most I’ve seen — rescued two years ago by a nice lady named Jane. A sweet pooch, we caught her again on the return trip home. Jane and Aly chatted while Julia and I took turns not scaring Wilson. Tired and unseasonably chilled for June — but seasonably mosquito-bitten — we headed home for the night.