Bravery and bluster, bravado and bulls**t.
I am able to muster one out of four of those anyway...
But, as a young teenager, you are required to push the boundaries,
impress your friends, be a little daring, and just maybe talk to
a giant dog.

Another perfect beach afternoon found Desoto and I strolling the
pier, dodging seagulls and mackerel and enjoying the ocean breeze.
Due to a heavy helping of humans eager for a picture, our progress
was slow and what should have taken ten minutes took forty five.

Every time we stopped and posed with another group, I'd catch this
young man and his buddies trailing us, staying well back or
off to one side. His pals looked unimpressed, but I could tell that
this kid was eager to learn why two talking dogs had landed in
the middle of his afternoon.

Finally, the crowds thinned and we got a little breathing room.
We stood at the railing, enjoying the forever view and wagging
contentedly. After a few moments, we heard muffled laughter
behind us and we turned to see Mr. Curious and his crew moving in.

"Who let the dogs out?" one of them chortled.
I gave them the happy paws and acted like a doofus
while Desoto looked cool.
Desoto always looks cool. I always look like a doofus.

The boys were slightly suspicious, staying in tight formation,
nudging each other and shifting from foot to foot.
Finally, Mr. Inquisitive plucked up his courage and stepped forward.

"Can I get a picture with you guys?" he blurted.
Desoto nodded and looked cooler.
"Of course, we'd be glad to!" I gushed, looking doofier all the time.
The poor kid seemed slightly worried but manned up and took
his place between us.

"Don't get fleas," one of his buddies chimed in.
I put my paw on the kid's shoulder and his friends giggled at the sight.
Mr. Curious, sensing he was being patronized by a gangly mutt,
redeemed himself by making the finger-horns over our heads
while his friends snapped away.

After the photo session, we stood and chatted, trading good natured
sarcastic barbs. I was happy to play the straight man to their burgeoning
wits, and after they were satisfied that the upright canines
had been bested, the group went on its way.

We returned to our stroll, and as the sun reclined over the
island, I felt content to be a part of the human social melee,
interacting with the crowd and making a good number of them smile.

We looped around the restaurant at the terminus of the pier, and on
our way back I felt a tap on my shoulder.
It was Captain Courageous.

"Um, thanks for the picture," he began.
"No worries! Anytime, my friend," I replied as I beamed my best
mutt smile.
The kid's eyes darted over to his friends, who were making their way
down the railing twenty feet ahead of us.
He lowered his voice and said in a near whisper "I think you're awesome."

Before I could answer, he dashed off to join his posse, who were none
the wiser that one of their cadre had just told a talking dog
that he was "awesome."

I smiled and gave Desoto a squeeze, hoping that his cool and our
awesome would offset my doofy.
Alas, that didn't work, but I still felt waggy and pleased with the
unsolicited compliment.

We headed for Fred's, and some much needed drinks and eats,
shaking paws and smiling for cameras as we went.

I have no idea what kind of discussion that group of teens and
Mr. Curious had, but I hope he made big points with his buds
for being brave and facing the giant canines.
One thing is for sure; he made this old mutt's afternoon
with a single comment.

Every time I venture out, I'm amazed and gratified at the
reception that I'm given.
I feel blessed indeed to bring a smile to a face or two, break
down the occasional social barrier, and make a teen forget to
be cool for a moment.

Even a thoroughly doofy mutt can be awesome, and
that's an honor indeed!