Me and Elvis were throwing ball in the park not a stone toss from where we live, when we teamed up with a six-month old bitch (canine) who were extremely insecure and immediately threw herself down, belly up. Usually, it’s Elvis that perform this more than friendly ritual, so naturally, it was an exciting encounter.
We threw some more ball and headed down to the pond at the bottom of the park to drink some water. It’s not the kind of place where you’d want to be late at night; no electric light, no one can see you, that sort of place. Also, it’s a kindergarten, so it’s hella scary after dark. Swings moving slightly, was that some laughter you just heard? Who the kid with a bag on his head? That sort of thing.
So, we where there and some guy in a hurry talking in a cell phone brushed past. I don’t speak to non-dog-wearing persons here, because they’re either selling or buying. Except of course when they come right at me, like the next person, a girl, also talking in her cellphone, did.
I aimed away from her trajectory, but she sort of turned towards us anyway, so I remained, glanced over my shoulder to make sure it wasn’t an ambush (I’ve been mugged like four times before) and stood firm. Elvis pee’d on some kid’s toy there on the asphalt, making sure we were perceived as extremely dangerous testosterone bombs.
– Hi, you there!
I looked at her, she was stressed.
– I’m police! Mind if you just stand here a little with me, looks more natural.
– Sure, I said.
I resisted the urge to call out PO-PO YO, FIVE-O! We’ve been watching Breaking Bad lately, so I knew what was going on. Elvis jumped up and down, making sure all sides of her pants were dirty.
– He’s just a puppy, so he jumps, I stated matter-of-factly.
– I can see that, she said with a smile.
– You didn’t see a guy walking through here?
– Like just before you?
– No, that’s my colleague.
– No. How did he look?
– Tall and thin?
I turned around, pointed at the chick with the bitch. It’s just that bitch up there, and her puppy, I said.
– Alright. She turned towards Elvis.
– He’s clean, I said. Like, metaphorically speaking
She laughed. She was undercover, dressed like a drug user, but her eyes were clear.
– You have a dog?
– Naw, I would like to, but where we live, third-floor, it’s just not ideal. Must be better to live here.
– It’s close to Marka, I said. That’s where he gets the real exercise.
She talked some more in her cellphone, something about where that guy was, and had to go. THANKS! She shouted. No problem, I said. She ran up where the first dude had disappeared.
We walked some more, did a poo, and headed home. I thought about blogging it, thinking about the events in the order they had transpired, only to remember that there was in fact some dude that had indeed crossed the park before the po-pos arrived!
A tall, thin, elderly-looking fellow in a grey trench-coat (I kid you not) had appeared just as we met to play with those bitches. He had looked expectantly at us, probably wondering if we were five-o, but I had brushed it off as just being another strange alcoholic that we’d better pay no attention to. Then we were focusing on the dogs, and the tangled mess of dog leashes, and I have no idea where he went..
Frailty of human witnesses, I guess. But I think they had him in sight. Hopefully, they won’t show up again to ask why I didn’t tell them in the first place… I just forgot.
Sigg3 and Elvis von Rosenhoff, Police dog (Aspiring)