Eventually he reconciles himself. The position of his tail here shows that he's ready for a walk, even though it's with me and not Heather.
Once we're underway he finds a way to tell me that he's sorry for hiding and that he does actually like me. Just not as much as Heather. I like Heather better than me too. It's another thing Freddie and I have in common.
Freddie likes crosswalks,
mail drop boxes,
and running through the leaves. Me too. I like them without sniffing them.
He doesn't like this grating and he's pissed that I'd even suggest he put a paw on it.
He likes posing for pseudo-arty photographs, which I like to take,
and he likes playing with other dogs, any dogs, even if only for a minute or two (Freddie has had his two minutes with this one -- hey Freddie, just because a dog has short legs ...).
Freddie refused to pose here. He doesn't like so-called bookstores that don't sell books. I'm with Freddie.
"I'll pose here, Paul. Take a photo." You got it, Freddie.
Freddie likes this cool entranceway so much that he won't look at the camera.
Freddie and I like hedge sculpture,
and classic bicycles (this one is an early seventies Apollo),
and, most of all, we love ...