Not Mayberry, But I Like It

A letter was delivered to my house that should have gone to my neighbor, just one house over. So, good citizen that I am, I walked it over to his mailbox.  Good human that I am, I took my dog with me.

Halfway down the front steps I realized that I hadn’t stopped to get his leash.  So, lazy guy that I am, I walked on with the hope that he wouldn’t run off.

And he didn’t.  He stuck by my heels pretty much, with occasional excursions to check out the local flora, fauna and road kill.  We sauntered down the road, fifty yards or so. Near dark, no cars, no one on the street, no hurry.  It felt just like the opening scene from the old Andy Griffth show. Except that I didn’t have a fishing pole over my shoulder.  And I wasn’t whistling.  And it wasn’t a dirt road, it was paved.  And Opie wasn’t around to throw stones.  And actually, Andy didn’t have a dog with him.

Other than that, it was exactly the same.

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