This story comes from Mary Z. of Albuquerque, NM:
“A while back, I had a dog named Taxi. He was a beautiful greyhound, and I used to call him by whistling and shouting ‘Taxi!’–isn’t that a perfect name for a dog? Anyway, once he darted out the door in the middle of the night and ran across the street toward an irrigation ditch. I called him for a while, but I couldn’t usurp whatever caught his attention. I darted across the street and started whistling for him and shouting ‘taxi! taxi!, come on, taxi!’ Just then, some guy on a bicycle slammed his air brakes and slid across the dirt, a homely cloud of dirt rising around the rear tire. Not wanting to attract the wrong attention late at night, I kept looking for a dog. The man got off the bike and walked down the ditch toward me. I got really scared, hoping my dog would show up soon to protect me from the stranger. He finally spoke up and said, ‘Um, madam, you’ll not be able to catch a taxi this late, it’s Albuquerque, not Manhattan.’ I laughed at the misunderstanding and said, “No, I’m looking for a greyhound!”–At this point, he retreats to his bike, gets started and says, “You won’t be able to catch a greyhound down there either…True story!”

Thanks, Mary! Anyone out there have a good story about their dog? E-mail me at k9amiga@webwildwest.com

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