Easy Rider

As I reversed my father's car out of the gate and turned it around, a rather thick-set brown dog trotted into view. He wore a collar and, therefore, was obviously not a stray. Within a few moments, he got on to the patch of grass that separates the boundary wall of the house from the road and began to sniff around and to go around in circles. I realised what he was up to, tapped the pane of the half-open front passenger-side window and called out to him to stop, just as he had begun to answer the call of nature.

He gave up his endeavour midway and came towards the car. Shortly, he disappeared. I was afraid that if I tried to drive away at that point of time, I might run him over. Then he appeared at the window on the driver's side, front-paws planted firmly on the door, apparently looking for a joy-ride. I would have gladly obliged, but did not want to deal with his (possibly) annoyed master/mistress later. Besides, he had not cleaned his rear end by dragging it along the grass for a bit, as dogs usually do after relieving themselves. So, I apologised and drove off with laughter suppressed until the disappointed canine, whom I had seen for the first time that evening, was out of earshot.