A few weeks ago, as I walked past the Linny Pacillo parking garage at the end of the day, I heard a bark. And then a yip.
Another bark.
A yip.
A bark yip yowl howl.
A yowl.
Hooooooowwwwwwwllllllll.
Apparently, there’s a handful of Atwood employees who bring their dogs to work (well, as far as the parking garage at least). And these dogs were making their presence known, barking back and forth, big barks, little barks, high barks, low barks.
Barks bouncing off the walls, between the levels, echoing throughout the building for everyone walking by to hear.
The grand finale was when a dog, happily being chauffeured home by his human, kept barking all the way out of the building, his barks spiraling closer and closer, crescendoing and then fading away as his vehicle exited the garage, turned down 7th, and headed home.
The dogs might have been ready for their day of being cooped up in cars to be done. Perhaps they were plotting their escape, or grumbling about how they were ready for dinner. Maybe they were calling for their people to come love them. Or they just wanted to hear their own voices. But I prefer to think of it as a doggy symphony, sending us gleefully home with a serenade of woofs.
AaaaOOOOOoooooo (my pitiful attempt at a howl).
