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9:10 p.m. - 2005-03-19 HOAGIEI pulled into my parking spot at 9PM last Thursday evening. It was a cold night for mid March, so I pulled my coat around me and began the brisk walk to the door. The cul-de-sac was quiet, all neighbors having cocooned themselves for the night, and I was hustling to join them as one of the cocooned. Suddenly, I felt a soft tickle along my lower leg and the strange sensation of the hem of my heavy coat being lifted. A little jolt of fear ran through me, as only moments before, I noted that all was silent and I had been completely alone. I turned around and there was no one there. I turned back and resumed my walking when I felt the sensation again. I turned again, this time looking down. At my feet was a roly poly, blond Cocker Spaniel encased like a sausage in a rather tight harness. I recoiled at first, not knowing the temperament of this strange little fellow, but then I saw his little nub of a tail wagging back and forth. That little nub was articulating so fast I chuckled at the site of it and reached out to touch this happy little pudge puppy who appeared to be smiling. I looked around to see whom he might belong to but there was no other human anywhere in the cul-de-sac. The dog looked well cared for; his hair cut neatly in the manner of Cocker Spaniels. He had a red bandana tied around his fat neck which made him look all the friendlier and he was wearing tags that I couldn't read in the dark parking lot. "Well, who do you belong to?" I asked, half expecting to see an owner pop out from between the houses and claim him. There was no answer except for the smiling face of the happy little pudge with his articulating nub wagging at rapid pace. (Some will disagree, but animals do smile.) Down at the end of the cul-de-sac lives a family with whom I lost touch long ago when our daughters grew up and moved away. They had always had Cocker Spaniels, most of whom they named Mutley. Mutley #1 was quite an escape artist and was frequently seen running through the neighborhood like he was its king, lifting his leg and pissing on anything stationary. I'll never forget the day that Mutley #1 ran out in front of a car. We were sitting in our living room and heard the screeching brakes and the thud as the dog was hit. The lady who hit him was in tears and we thought Mutley was dead. He survived but was never quite the same after that. This family had two children. Kristen, a smart blond, Swedish looking beauty, who upon graduating college, went to work for the F.B.I.; and Brendan, a chubby...no make that downright fat, short, ugly child who looked exactly, and I make no exaggeration here, like a Cabbage Patch Kid. Brendan was always in trouble and grew to be a troubled young man. I figured the fat little dog must belong to this family and I started walking down the cul-de-sac, trying to convince the dog to come with me. The Cocker would follow me for a few feet then disappear somewhere in a row of parked cars. After a while, I decided to leave him and go in. As I walked toward my house, the little pup reappeared and followed me toward my door. I needed to switch on the porch light so I could read the tag fastened to his harness, but he ran up to the door, little nub tail wagging, and looked at me with his little smiley face that said, (in the manner in which dogs talk), I realized that I was not going to open the door and get in with out pudge pup going in with me. The best I could do was open the door a crack and reach in and flick on the light. I bent down to read his tag and it did indeed confirm that he belonged to the Callahan family, so I called him Mutley, a name that he did not seem to respond to. We live in a quad home development and this family lives in a unit that is identical to ours. Theirs is the "penthouse" unit, above the garages. The dog seemed to think he belonged there, running back and forth between my door and the door to the unit that looked like the one he lived in. I managed to yell in through the crack in the door for Mike to get Abby's leash because I had the Callahan's dog out here trying to get in. Mike came out to help but without the leash. My husband is funny. He doesn't care much for animals or children, yet both are drawn to him like a magnet. I have written before about how he ignores our bird, Alex, yet Alex lives to get a glimpse of him or for the oft chance that he will be allowed a moment on his shoulder. The little Cocker too was attracted to him and followed him down the cul-de-sac like he was some kind of Pied Piper of dogs, happily trotting at his heel, nub tail flicking away. When we got to the Callahans, their storm door was propped open, revealing the way in which the dog made its escape. Mike yelled in the door, "Hey, we got your dog out here." A moment later Brendan appeared at the door looking rather stoned. The boy with the Cabbage Patch Kid face grew up to be a man with a Cabbage Patch Kid face. We explained that the dog was trying to come in our house. "Oh, he's just looking for more cookies", the Cabbage Patch Man said. "Is this dog named Mutley too?� I asked. "No", said Brendan, "This is Hoagie." "Perfect name", I thought as I watched the short fat Cabbage Patch Man pick up the fat, canine kielbasa and wrestle him in the door. I just hope that we aren't sitting in front of the TV some night and hear a screech and thud and run outside to find a flattened Hoagie. In my short time with the roly poly little critter, I sort of fell in love with his smiling face and his little nub tail. He will no doubt be back, like his predecessor, Mutley. Hoagie marked his new territory and peed on everything in my yard that would stand still.
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