“WAIT” I yelled as the little dog rushed into the path of an oncoming car.

My heart was pounding so hard that I could barely hear anything else, yet the man in the car must have heard my yell since his reaction was immediate.

I closed my eyes, not able to watch. But I did not think to plug my ears, so I heard each and every agonizing squeal as the breaks battled to stop the forward momentum of the SUV. I had little hope for the little dog, SUVs are heavy, and the man had not been given much warning. I feared that today was a day I would witness a tragedy.

Time froze and then there was silence. Even the birds stopped their usual happy chirping.

Cautiously, one lash at a time, I opened my eyes. There was the little dog, sniffing the bumper of the SUV that had come to a stop just an inch from his curious little nose.

With a final sniff at the metallic monster, the dog continued his journey across the street. He pranced over to where I stood, but as a mere human, I was not worth his attention.

He had risked his life, braved the dangers of the road, to pay his respects to the dog at the end of my leash. But Pepper, my schnoodle, gave him no more attention than she would an old piece of paper. A single sniff, and her nose went into the air, uninterested.

With a bark and a bow, the little dog again tried to gain her attention. He playfully bounced around, exuding friendly charm from every doggy pore. It was no use. Pepper looked off into the distance, royally refusing to acknowledge the bouncy little dog’s existence.

With what sounded suspiciously like a sigh, the little dog dejectedly lowered his head and rambled back across the street. Thank goodness, this time there were no cars to liven things up.

I looked down at my dog, sitting in regal splendor, waiting for me to continue our walk. I looked across the street at the sad little dog who now seemed so alone.

It was a doggie soap opera in the making. Who would have guessed?