It was overcast and drizzly so we knew the playground would be all wet but we decided to stop and play on our way home from orchestra, anyway. I used an extra sweater we had in the car to dry off the slides and swings somewhat so the kids wouldn't get soaking wet and they had a great time running around playing pirates.
"Ahoy! I spy a little dog!" Benjamin called out from the designated crow's nest.
And, indeed, there was a sweet little puppy running around (and by my using the word "sweet" you must really know that this dog was, indeed, sweet because it's against my natural inclination to consider unknown dogs "sweet"; but this dog looked kind and happy and gentle and sweet).
"DOGGY!" Alexander gushed, rushing towards it.
As sweet as the dog looked, rushing toward a dog isn't very good etiquette so I stopped Alexander just as the dog's owner came around the corner, his shuffling gait had trouble keeping up with spry little puppy, and he had the leash draped around his own neck instead of the dog's (which is technically against the rules of the park).
"Does he want to pet the dog?" the man asked.
"ME PET A DOGGY!" Alexander agreed.
So we went over to pet the dog.
"Do you know what kind of dog this is?" the man asked.
"I don't," I confessed.
"It's a Basenji," he said. "It's an African breed. Very quiet dogs. They can't bark."
"Sounds like my kind of dog," I said.