I never noticed this dog crossing sign before. It’s up the road from me in front of a house that perches over Laguna Canyon Road halfway up a steep, half-tarred, half-concrete road paralleling the canyon. It’s the only house up there. Jake and Fergie, my Staffordshire Bull Terriers, and I sometimes take this route for a quickie hike, instead of the three-mile steeper version further down Canyon Acres. For one thing, there are no prowling rangers up here, ready to ticket me for letting the dogs run loose (Me and The Law), and for another there’s a rope swing at the top where Fergie has been pushing me from behind whenever I sit on the plank seat. I’ll have to get a shot of that sometime. Maybe that can be my “S is for Swing” blog . . . hmmm.
You’ll have to click on the photo to see the little dog crossing sign behind Fergie. Jake’s on the bench. No Jimmy today. He’s the little black mutt with cocker spaniel leanings who usually ambles from the house to bark at us. Maybe that’s why I’ve never noticed the sign, I’m too busy reining in Fergie. She’s a real pushy girl, thinks everyone is into getting some touch, some love, like she is.