Usually Tuffy P takes the dogs for an early morning walk and I take them in the evening to the dog park, and finally, we go for what we call our “pack walk” just before bed. This week I volunteered to handle a couple of the morning walks.
You see the neighbourhood much differently at 5:30 in the morning. There are not many humans out and about. Cat’s, as Ewan MacColl sang, are prowling on their beats. Occasionally a family of raccoons crosses the street. This morning we met a lone dog. Memphis saw him or smelled him or sensed him first, and bristled. The dog was across the street. At first I thought it was a coyote but no, it was too chunky for a coyote. I thought about making friends, but the energy I was getting from Memphis said this one wasn’t going to be our friend. He followed us from a distance past the parkette and disappeared once we passed the old apartments behind the arena.
A light goes on in a house up ahead. Someone getting up, getting ready for work, or maybe getting ready for a dog walk. Where’s that leash? I hear a car racing down Lakeshore as we approach, and walk past an empty store front. There are quite a few empty stores heading west along the south side of the street. At the same time, some new businesses are trying their luck. There are some new condos going up down the road. Maybe that will be good for business.
This early the street is mostly quiet, except for a couple cars at the Tim’s drive-thru, and one Harley parked by the bench. A lone woman stands at the street car stop. The dogs know the route. We turn here, down Twenty-seventh.