One set of cousins arrived last week and I gave them a thorough dousing of our grand city and the environs. We ate or nibbled at my favorite haunts. We visited local honeymoon spots and saw the miniature donkeys. We even braved the Los Angeles highways to increase their experience.
One thing was not on the itinerary and, I fear, will be the most remembered.
We were in a ritzy area of our town. The mansions, the greenery, the boutiques filled our senses. Then out of the blue there was a older model Jaguar convertible at a stop sign to our left. The driver and passenger were soaking up the sun and the two large dogs in the back seat seemed to be in their own heaven.
Barbara said, "Look at those dogs. I think they are Mountain dogs."
We stared at the objects of her attention when she continued, "Oh, I think they really are mountin' dogs!!"