The other day I took a detour on the trail across the street and went to the other side of the Four Mile Run river. A fence appeared on the trail, but the wire gate was unlocked, so I pushed it open and walked through. Before long a dog skipped down the path, unleashed. Then another. On a wooded opening clusters of dogs were yapping and snapping at each other --- I couldn't tell whether they were serious or just playing. It dawned on me that I had entered a dog park.
I had never been surrounded by so many dogs in my life, not to mentioned unleashed. Of course, the humans were also hanging around, an indifferent eye on their pets. There were various breeds, sizes, colors, and looks. A yellow one, medium size, hopped over and sniffed me. I pretended not to notice. Another ran toward and then skipped past me.
Research says dogs read people better than people. I wondered if they could see the flutters in my chest. I was a little nervous. Anyway, none bit me. Some of the humans shot me a puzzled glance, as I had no dog with me. I passed the dog park uneventfully, all the while wondering why the canines running free did not begin tearing into each other's flesh despite that looked like fake fighting. But they didn't.
As I shut the exit gate behind me, I wondered if people had wondered the same about people.
I was about 9 or 10 years old when I made my first contact with Star Wars. It was the novelization of "Empire Strikes Back," ...
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