Mocha

My great granddog. Six months old and such a good girl.  We went for a walk with our granddaughter and the doggo. I’m not much of a dog person, so it was novel to stroll with a canine perspective: stopping, lunging, sniffing, so alert when other dogs were in view, just delighting in everything—so many new smells and sounds and sights. I find the dog owners even more fascinating than the dogs—apparently you have to stop and introduce your dog by name to the other dog, and talk in a funny high voice, and say inane things about playing nice. Repeat. And repeat, and repeat. We were all exhausted when we got back to the car.