Maybe it's eavesdropping, but I don't care.
I love hearing people talk to their dogs upon coming back to their car or truck after a brief errand.
It's especially rewarding when the person in question has a stern visage. You know, the sort of individual whose countenance suggests a grim personality.
But when they address their dogs, another side sometimes reveals itself.
I saw that just today on Riverside. A wild-looking Mountain Man type had just walked back to his old truck parked in the shade.
It was hard to guess about his age. He was all beard.
He opened the driver's side door. "All right," he said to the little dog inside. "Scoot over."
He meant to sound gruff, but you could tell his impatience was an act. The affection was clear.
I'm willing to bet he would do anything for that dog. And I'm sure the dog feels the same way.