Earlier in the day Heidi and I went for a stroll down Spadina. A squirrel, carrying a hotdog bun that was a long as the animal itself, passed before us. This made Heidi crazy with jealousy, and she lunged at the squirrel, yanking me along behind her by the leash. The squirrel zipped up a tree while Heidi stood at the base, barking. I was looking up, trying to ascertain if the squirrel had managed to retain his hotdog bun (he had) when the door to the home the tree was on opened.
An elderly woman emerged. She was frail and she wore a big, floppy Tilley hat and a loose fitting shirt. I was getting ready to mumble some sort of apology to her, but when she looked over at the scene her face lit up and she began to giggle. “Oh my, “ she said, “such a very dramatic tableaux!”
Heidi and I continued on our walk down to Bloor, when about five minutes later we heard the persistent ringing of a bicycle bell. I looked behind me and saw the elderly woman, now riding a bike. I started to wave, figuring she was trying to say hello by ringing the bell, but she didn’t see us at all. There was a cube truck parked by the curb in front of us, and that’s what she was focused on. She kept ringing her bell, shouting, “Please don’t open your door, pleased don’t open your door, please don’t open!!” before sailing by safely.