Saturday it was pretty enough to walk the dogs…got all the way up to 50. Whoo hoo!

I walked Maggie while Eric wrangled the over-eager Libby – who’s still learning how to walk on a leash.

[tug-tug-tug... "Libby slow down!" ...tug-tug-tug]

As we began our 20 minute trek, we passed the Prim’s house.

The elder Mr. Prim often has family over who by the end of summer last year finally got accustomed to Maggie.

And as their fear slowly turned to fascination, they began pointing out the Mooch to the young grandson whenever we would walk by.

Well…the bad dog owner I am…who got entirely sick of winter & cold & snow…had stopped walking the dogs.

So Saturday was our first day back out…and Mr. Prim’s son was there with the grandson…pointing out the Mooch once again.

We smiled & bowed and continued our way along our path.

But on the way back home, past the Prim’s one more time, the grandson suddenly made the connection that the American monster wasn’t going to eat him after all.

Timidly, he waved at first.

We waved back, smiling & bowing…saying “hi”…forgetting to say it in Korean.

And we continued back towards the house.

It wasn’t until we got 30 yards from their house that we suddenly realized the plaintive yelling we heard behind us was actually coming from the grandson.

(We live near a school with a play-ground full of kids constantly yelling. So it didn’t really register at first.)

But I looked back to see him standing there in the middle of the road – shouting at us.

“Wait! Come back!!!…I want to ride your cow!”

(At least that’s what I imagine he said.)