And how do you say, "dog"?

Yesterday morning, en route to my class, I stopped at the Whole Foods to stock up on goodies. As I left the building, I noticed this man standing on the sidewalk with a very interesting dog. Now, as is not surprising to many, I am not a dog person. Wait, let me say that more directly, for the most part, I don't like dogs. They're too eager to be my friend, take up too much space, have too many needs. It's a quality I often find attractive in people but on dogs, well, I wish they were more cat-like.

This dog, however, sat there on the street with his ears perked up and this great big smile on his face. There was something about that dog. So I walked over to say hello, first making eye contact with the man holding his leash. "What kind of dog is that?" I asked. The man started and looked at me, frightened and wary. (Forgive my bad phonetics here): "Eh um Frensh not spik Inglish." I smiled and racked my brain for any French words I might have (croissant? cafe late? voulez vou couchez avec moi cest sois or some spelling). I thought I might try Portuguese with that silly American idea that since he speaks a Latin language, maybe he would better understand my Latin language. Instead, I smiled and said, "ciao" and he looked happy.

As I walked away, not more than a minute passed and I turned back because I heard something. "What a lovely dog! What's his name?" asked the big burly white man with arms full of grocery bags. At the same time, a woman came up from a different direction, dropped to her feet next to the dog and began to pet him, looking up at the French man and saying, "oh, my aunt has a dog like this, I can't remember what kind it is, what is it called?"

I turned away and got into my car as I saw this man's face grow redder. I sure hope whoever was in the Whole Foods came back soon.