I enjoy when typically urban experiences feel foreign; it reminds me of my country roots. I also enjoy when rural life creeps into the city and it shocks me; I consider myself a city mouse now.
Yesterday, I'm driving back from my CSA pickup, and a happy, well-fed, collared dog goes sauntering down the sidewalk, no owner in site. I immediately panicked. Who owns that dog? Is it lost? It's alone without a leash or a fenced-in yard? What, what, what?
That's my city mouse talking. The country mouse had to remember driving with my mom in the car, a mile or two radius around our house, calling for Bridger to come home. Had to remember when coming across a dog meant saying, "Oh yeah, that's the Anderson's dog. They live waaaaay over there." Or, "Hey this a great dog, let's take him on a hike up into the national forest behind the house. Cool!"
Happy Friday.
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I have to physically stop myself from pulling over to look at dog collar tags in MT. Free range mutts are all over...and I hope they all make it home.
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