I pace back and forth, back and forth, on the sidewalk. Over and over again. Then disappear for a short while before reappearing to pace again. No, I’m not wearing 6” stilettos or a short, short skirt, and it is a dog, not a pimp, who forces me into this routine. I have never in my life walked so slowly for such a short distance as I do with Princess Riley. Okay, maybe that’s not true – I seem to remember a very similar experience with Charley when she was old and arthritic. Riley is followed by Mitzi – who sometimes forces me to walk very slowly and sometimes races around the town with me in tow. And
usually walks quite briskly except when I am in a hurry, and then prefers the
streetwalker stroll. Eddie simply tells
me which direction to go and then struts out in style – if there is a pimp in
my life, it is he.
And then there are the nose prints - and often paw prints - on the windows. Today it was time – sun low in the sky accentuates every streak of mud left by dirty-pawed dogs wanting in, and every smear of slobber left by nosy noses looking out. Bucket and squeegee in hand, I tackled the windows. Sadly, not one of those on the other side of the glass gave me a tip.
And lastly there are the night time duties. Old dogs needing out at night should coordinate their biological needs instead of getting me up at 1 AM, 3 AM, 5 AM. I am tired today.
Sigh. I’m a streetwalker, a squeegee girl, and a lady of the night.
And I thought my former job as a university instructor was challenging.