A Daily Walk With DietPower
Walking is the best exercise for weight loss. And the things you see!
This Boston Terrier occasionally barks at me from a lawn on Judith Drive. I don't see him often; our schedules don't mesh. I don't even know his name. Although his bark is friendly, he can't run over to me for a pat on the head. Like most dogs in our neighborhood, he wears an electronic collar that sounds a warning buzzer when he approaches the Invisible Fence buried in the perimeter of the lawn. Can you see the regret in his eyes? He wants to know me, but the fence won't oblige.
Because its markings resemble formal wear, the Boston Terrier is sometimes called "the American Gentleman." It isn't really a terrier, but a cross (originated by Robert C. Hooper, of Boston) between the English Bulldog and a now-extinct breed of foxhunter called the English White Terrier. The Boston terrier dates only to the 1870s, and is one of just a handful of recognized breeds native to the United States.
I never see a Boston Terrier without thinking of Paul’s Barbershop, in Avis, Pennsylvania, where my father took all five of us for 50-cent haircuts. (The going rate was $1. Apparently, we had a bulk deal.) It was a classic three-chair shop with a checker-tile floor and huge leather waiting chairs. It smelled of tonic and cigars.
Paul, a kindly chain-smoker whose life and family have forever remained a mystery to me, gave me my first haircut there in 1950. I still remember crying over it. But I also remember his Boston Terriers. He had a whole pack of them—six strong—who lived behind a curtain hung in the back doorway. If you sneaked over there and suddenly whipped open the curtain, six faces with bulging eyes would erupt in a wild cacophony until you closed it again.
Paul had trained his dogs never to come into the shop. He made one exception, however. Whenever they heard the whine of the electric shaving-cream dispenser, they would burst through the curtain to lap up any drops of hot lather that spilled on the floor. (I can still hear their toenails clicking on the tile.) We used to beg Paul to demonstrate this. Sometimes he did; sometimes he didn't. But as we climbed down from the chair with our ears newly ventilated and our heads evaporating Wildroot, he always gave us a penny to spend in the gumball machine bolted to the heavy oak table piled with dog-eared issues of Popular Mechanics and Field & Stream.
It's funny how many memories you can find in a face, isn't it? (I wonder if this pooch likes Barbasol.)
About this page: Precisely at noon each day, I step out of my office for a 3.5-mile walk around my Connecticut neighborhood. I carry a Panasonic Lumix DMC-TX5 pocket camera with a Leica 10x optical zoom lens. My object is to make an interesting photograph of at least one thing that is different that day. I post the results here, hoping they will inspire you and your friends to walk, too. —Terry Dunkle, DietPower founder and CEO.
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All My Yesterdays
Thursday, May 7: Underground Passage
Wednesday, May 6: White Violet
Tuesday, May 5: Singing His Heart Out
Monday, May 4: Kenny's Secret
Sunday, May 3: Monument to an Afternoon
Saturday, May 2: Gasoline Rainbow
Friday, May 1: The Duck and the Bashful Maiden
Thursday, April 30: A Poison Ivy Sandwich
Wednesday, April 29: The Very Picture of Spring
Tuesday, April 28: A Busy Bumblebee
Monday, April 27: Electric Pink
Sunday, April 26: Saturday Night Special
Saturday, April 25: An Old Oak Falls
Friday, April 24: How an Ant Sees a Daffodil
Thursday, April 23: The Nameless Brook
Wednesday, April 22: Weeding Time
Tuesday, April 21: Wet Apple Buds
Monday, April 20: Mr. Allen and the Crew Team
Sunday, April 19: Bloodroot II
Saturday, April 18: Green Jellybeans
Friday, April 17: Bloodroot
Thursday, April 16: Skunk Cabbage III
Wednesday, April 15: Find the Critter
Tuesday, April 14: Blessing of the Animals
Monday, April 13: The Crow Who Said "Wow!"
Sunday, April 12: A Quirky Church
Saturday, April 11: Self-Portrait in a Pothole
Friday, April 10: Easter flowers
Thursday, April 9: Dumb as a Squirrel
Wednesday, April 8: April Snow
Tuesday, April 7: Egg Trees, Connecticut Style
Monday, April 6: I Carry My Lunch
Sunday, April 5: A Tree in Spring
Saturday, April 4: Pigs with Drivers Licenses
Friday, April 3: Forsythia
Thursday, April 2: Skunk Cabbage II
Wednesday, April 1: Mystery of the Hanging Shoes
Tuesday, March 31: Downy Woodpecker
Monday, March 30: 300-Year-Old House
Sunday, March 29: The Broken Fence
Saturday, March 28: "You're Such a Delight"
Friday, March 27: Skunk Cabbage
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