The Man Next Door

La has always been rather imaginative. Her knack for concocting complex characters out of absolutely nothing is superb. Certain professionals might label this characteristic as 'paranoid schizophrenia.' I like to call it creative genius.

A few weekends ago I became a bit concerned with this ability. I walked into our living room, and La was gazing out of the open window into the courtyard, having a detailed conversation with thin air. I watched and listened to her musings for a moment which went something like, "OH DAAAARLING! Don't you just look so cute! OH YES! And so cuddly and fuzzy too! OF COURSE! What are you doing today? I think we shall go to tea!"

But then it occurred to me that the neighbors may perceive of this display as a little whacky.

As I started toward her with the intent of removing her from the window, I noticed this:

If that isn't the sweetest little neighbor in the world, I don't know what is.

La has had numerous conversations with him since then, with some of their discussions consisting entirely of barking loudly at each other across the courtyard. (Our neighbors surely LOVE us.) Every time she says goodbye and closes the window, he howls and whimpers for her to come back. I believe they've become great pals.