Walking the four-legged beasts out can be either obligation or fun, or both or even a third option, normally a hard to define and divine one.
Some months ago we met a young woman walking her two bitches out, one free, one by the leash. (Before the usual concerned person with legislation asks, it is obligatory to walk the dogs by the leash). Upon the demonstration of fear by the restraint bitch when my monsters approached that party, the young lady explained that she was retrieved from a kennel for someone had abandoned the poor animal, and that she was afraid of other dogs.
Today, a young man walking the very same she-dogs crossed our path. The poor bitch acted as before.
‘I know her. She was abandoned, wasn’t she?’ I asked him, but I don’t know if he really listened.
‘She’s very afraid of people, I don’t know why. She’s been like this since I bought her at the pet-shop.’
A young couple of liars? Maybe not. The bitch is probably afraid of everything and they don’t know for they don’t, they can't spend much time with her. And as for the origin of the dog, they could be being true to their natures, falling into the monotonous stereotype: she must excel publicly by her love, her kindness; he must do it by his status, mirrored by the silver in his purse.
