Quack, quack, quack, quack. I heard behind me as I hurried to the bus stop to catch the 9:33 bus. I was on my way to my sister's to spend mother's Day with my mother, sister, brother, cousin and daughters.
The incessant quacking got my attention and I though as I hurried along, 'how did a duck get all the way out here. On the heels of that though came another, 'nah,' I say as entered into a two way dialogue with the self, focused on getting to the stop on time.
'It's probably just a dog.'
'A dog? What the heck kind of dog sounds like that?'
'A little one, maybe one of those little Chihuahuas.'
'But, a quack though, wouldn't be more like a yip than a quack?'
As I pontificate the merits of sounds belonging to a duck verses a dog, curiosity got the better of me and I turned around as I reached my destination, hoping to settle the internal debate as the instant quacking did not seize.
I turned and there quacking up a storm, dancing vibrantly as if in long anticipation of my acknowledgement, is a tiny black dog, hair around the head flair out in every direction in spikes, quacking double time as if to say, " finally, didn't you here me calling you"? I looked at the owner and smiled and the little thing snapped 3 quick quacks, indignantly as saying, hold up a damn minute here, what you not going to do is ignore me. I have been calling all this time and you smiling at her, what you smiling at her for, I called you.
I looked at the itty bitty fluff wagging joyously and apologized, "I am sorry, I see you".
"Quack".
"You enjoying your walk?"
"Quack, quack, quack".
"You are huh."
The owner pulls on the leash moving in the opposite direction, the dog plants it feet as if to say, hold nah, am talking here, what's you hurry. I looked at the dog struggling to hold the her owner on place. I say, ok, enjoy you walk, thanks for saying hi." I looked at the owner and asked, " what kind of dog is she?" Pomeranian. The tiny Pomeranian quacked again as if to say, hey talk to me not her, and quacked rapidly as if annoyed. She pulled on his leach again followed by an insistent, "come onnn". The Pomeranian looked at her, then turned back time with four quacks as if to say, "I have to go". I waved and said bye simultaneously to which the little Pomeranian answered, "quack". I smiled to myself thinking, a quacking dog. If somebody had told me a dog bark could sound like a legit duck quack I would've called them a liar.
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