Everybody loves Bruno

We're into our third month of hosting Bruno. It's working out. He's mostly a good boy. Everybody loves him.

Just today, a woman pushing a shopping cart across the Foodland parking lot hollered at me, 100 yards away, "beautiful dog!"

Not being one to shout across parking lots, I replied with a thumbs up.

Everywhere you stop with the car and roll down his window, random passersby go gaga over him. Oh he's gorgeous, oh what a beauty, oh blah blah beautiful blah...

Mostly it's women. If the Farm Manager ever sets out in search of greener pastures I sure hope she leaves Bruno with me!

It's not just women, though. There's a guy up the road with an English mastiff. Bit of a pothead (the dude, not the dog) and not much of a dog owner - one time I was hiking by the place and his dog ran out and grabbed one of my walking sticks. We don't really interact that much. Anyway, he drives by real slow, does a u-turn in the middle of the road, and stops to chit-chat about Bruno.

Mind you, there are a couple of gals over Port Elgin way who don't love him that much. Me and Bruno were out and about a few days ago, and I stopped at Macgregor Park to give him a chance to stretch his legs and do his business. It was early morning and we had a lovely twenty minute walk out to Pump-house Point, him mostly off leash the whole way.

We were heading back to the car when I heard folks approaching. I'd no sooner got the leash on him than they come around the corner, two women and a dog. I offer a cheery good morning... and all hell breaks loose!

The other dog instantly drops to the ground. 

Bruno instantly lunges at it, dragging me along. He's going for the dog. I'm going for him. I've got both hands on his neck and pull him off as the gals are hootin' and hollerin' and making one hell of a fuss.

I end up flat on my back in the snow. Bruno, now gone completely inert, because he knows he's been a very bad boy, is sprawled across me. One of the gals keeps apologizing for kicking my dog. 

Hey lady, totally my bad. Kick the asshole a couple more times if you want. In fact, I insist.

The other one keeps asking if I'm OK, to the point where it's annoying. I'm lying in the snow and I just want to say shut-up already.

I guess from their point of view there's an old man lying in the snow with a dog on top, and I coulda had a heart attack or something. I'm just lying there, trying to process what just happened.

Other than that unfortunate episode, he's mostly a good boy.