Rainey Blogs on Some Days

I walked my dog today. His name is Rover. I know, it is an ordinary dog name, but I wanted something traditional for him. I mean, he is a dog, so why give him some avant-garde name for goodness’ sake? He is a Yorkshire terrier. I do not even know what that is . At least that is what I tell people. I have a dog leash that I bought at the Duquoin State Fair in 1975 and I found it in the attic last year. I guess I did not want to go around with a Bergen Record newspaper bag to pick up Rover’s poop—and a New York Times bag would have been a little hoity toity for me—so an invisible Yorkshire terrier on a stiff, fake dog leash seemed right, and there are no ordinances in Leonia requiring us to pick up invisible dog poop. As I was out walking Rover this morning, I saw one of the softball moms who lives two blocks away. She told me he was a cute dog, but then her dog got a little aggressive with Rover and I had to pull Rover back and tell her to have a nice day. We walked by the home sale...