This afternoon, the dogs and I strolled down our street.  Houston walked on my left attached to the leash around my waist.  Booker marched on his leash on my right.  Faith kept Houston in line and between us.  And, Gus trotted next to my right heel.

Even though Houston is a puppy, he is walking well on the leash.  It helps that he has the Horde around him.

Over and over, neighbors comment on how well-mannered the dogs are when walking.

I noticed a man leash his black labrador as we approached.  Knowing my dogs wouldn’t leave their stations, we kept walking.  I smiled and said “hello.”

He replied, “Do you really own four dogs?”

“No.  No.  I do not OWN four dogs.  I have four dogs with me.”  (I didn’t mention that Betty White was hanging out with the neighbors.)

For the rest of the afternoon, I thought about the word “own.”  When used as a verb, it means to possess.  How can one possess another being?