Puppy Attack

As I walked to the gym at the end of the street where I live, I passed a house and two puppies came running out from the front yard. The gate was open. The puppies were tiny, not much bigger than each of my hands. One was a pomeranian. The other one looked like the scampy, scruffy type of puppy that you'd might see in an illustrated children's book.

They started running and darting about me in a frenzy of barking, yapping, and snarling. I admired their courage and motzie. The way they were fearlessly defending their territory. I could have squashed them two stomps of my feet. Instead, I said "hello"  to them and asked them what was wrong. But they were to have no truck with my attempts at friendliness.
So, I continued on my way. The puppies followed at a distance, barking, for a while -running away every time I turned to face them and then continuing the chase every time I turned and went on walking.

Just before getting to the gym, I passed a house that had chickens running around the front yard. And a rooster. It was a big white rooster with a red crest. I don't know if we have Long Island Red roosters in Australia. But he did remind me of Foghorn Leghorn. The hens were busy were busy scratching about the yard. Looking for worms and bugs, I guess. Foghorn stood still and silent. Silent. I felt in in my waters that he was the loud mouth snook who had been doing all the random crowing that I've mentioned in an earlier post. 

The pool at the gym was too crowded to swim laps.