My hot little bitch.

With the early start of Daylight Savings Time, I’ve been able to get home in time to take my dog, Nellie, for a walk before the sun sets. And every time I saunter about the neighborhood, I’m stopped by a passerby who feels obliged to offer, “what a pretty dog.”

In light of the fact that we come from different species, “Thank you” seems like an odd response.

Besides, there’s something more sinister afoot.

When people stop me and shower Nellie with ,”Oh how pretty. Isn’t she pretty?”

I believe they are really taking notice of my aquiline nose, my two chins and my non-existent hairline and thinking, “that dog is out of his league.”