On a recent Sunday, I started off on a walk for some groceries, and about a block from my apartment building I had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. It was because I saw two bulldogs rounding the corner across the street.
Now, I love dogs. And I especially love bulldogs. Their scrunchy faces and the upturned corners of their wide mouths make them look naughty and adorable. They’ve got spunk. They also have an endearing, awkward gait that combines muscularity with short legs.
I squeal inside–and sometimes out loud–when I see a bulldog. I got so excited when I saw two of them being walked at the same time. I made a beeline across the street. I said loudly, “I have to say hello to those bulldogs!”
They’re owned by a young couple who had just adopted the smaller one, named Liberty, whose previous owner had just died. Liberty was shy. Might have been because of the transition of owners and environments. I tried to take a selfie, but Liberty kept moving away from me and trying to hide behind the legs of dad.
The bigger bulldog was, if I remember correctly, George. He has his own Instagram, mom told me. George is rambunctious. I knelt down to take a selfie with him, and he jumped. He wasn’t interested in being still, but I was able to get a couple decent shots.
Can’t wait to see these bulldogs again.