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Francesca
I've written about the various dogs and cats which inhabit my neighborhood (and wider vicinity), but there is one mysterious resident in my building which I finally got to meet today.
His master comes in and out of his apartment with a booming "GOOD BOY!!" clearly meant for a dog. I thought the good boy was a puppy in training, and learning the ropes of the leash, going to the dog park, standing quietly in an elevator, and not barking at strangers. At times, the owner shouts "HOWWIE!!" in desperation, when I assume Howie is up to some mischief.
It turns out that "Good Boy" is indeed more of a puppy than a grown-up, being all of nine months old. He is a French bulldog. I met him in the elevator. "So this is Howie," I said. Howie gave me a dour look. He wasn't into friendly neighbors. I almost said he looks like Martha Stewart's Frenchie Francesca, but I didn't think Howie and his owner would find that interesting information (although Francesca happens to be a girl). Plus, Howie was going out of his confined apartment for a brief freedom and play in the park, and nothing would distract him.
"Bye, Howie!" I said, not discouraged. After all, Bodhi the friendly English bulldog always gives me an exuberant welcome accompanied with a frenzy of tail-wagging. I doubt "Good Boy" will ever be that extroverted; I think it's a French thing. But maybe he just needs time.