I took the basenjis out for a walk yesterday afternoon, as I always do when the weather permits. There were the usual comments from passers-by, but a couple stand out, and I thought I'd mention them.
I was passing by the People's Cafe on Thames Street, and two women sitting at a table out front asked me what kind of dogs I had. I brought them over for the women to see, and one of them took out her iPhone and began to take pictures of them. It turned out that she had lost her own dog to old age the month before, and she was looking for another dog to replace her. I sat down at the table with her and talked about where the basenjis were from, where I had got them, and what it was like to own one. Every few minutes, a passer-by would stop and ask what kind of dogs they were, which the woman found charming. Klea spent the time trying to get at a bag of kettle corn in the woman's purse, while Louis became bored and kept trying to get out of his harness (and succeeding once), which the woman also found charming. By the time I left her fifteen minutes later to resume my walk, she had just about decided that she would be getting herself two basenjis.
Later during that walk, I was on William Street, and a woman who was just getting out of a parked car said, "Are those basenjis?" It turned out that she had owned a black-and-white basenji back in the 1950s, and she still had fond memories of the breed. She was very pleased at the chance to stop and pet Louis and Klea, and to reminisce about her own basenji.