Here’s what I had to say today to another dog owner in reference to Frank (see opposite):
“He’s anti-social, but not violently so.”
The other dog, a friendly, typically doggy sort, did not seem to realize that Frank is special. Frank doesn’t care to mingle. Not even to sniff. Whenever he sees another dog coming he quickly retreats to the side where he regards the interloper with a mix of concern and disdain.
If the dog dares approach, Frank pretends he doesn’t notice, like maybe if he doesn’t look (he/she/it) will just go away already. When he’s wearing an outfit, like his new yellow slicker with hood, his hauteur becomes even more pronounced.
I wonder if I made him like this? Could his extensive wardrobe be causing him to put on airs? Oh well, it’s too late to bring him back down to earth. To do so would be cruel. It would be like making that kid in the short story “Paul’s Case” go stay at a Super Eight after his experiences at the Ritz or wherever it was he went with all his stolen loot. Maybe Frank, like the fictional Paul, is in love with beauty? Or perhaps he just prefers my company to that of some strange dog. One can understand…