One human, one canine

—I almost had the rail-trail to myself this morning (Monday, November 2nd).
2.8 miles total, but one human and one canine at about 2.5 miles. During summer I might see 30 on a weekday, or 60 on a weekend.
But today was cold = down jacket, hat, and gloves.
I thought today might be the first time I did my 2.8 miles without seeing anyone. But a girl walking her own dog walked past as I said hello to Killian.
“Are you okay?” she asked, as I stood at the marker whimpering.
“Just saying hello to my silly dog,” I said. “His ashes are right over there.”
“You picked a good spot,” she said.
“We hiked this rail-trail many times,” I said. “He’d pull me off to the side towards these woods, then bark at all-and-sundry.
I never saw anything, but ‘CRITTERS BEWARE’!”
The girl was young and cute, but not gorgeous. She was a little overweight — that always turns me off.
“At least I don’t have this rail-trail to myself,” I said. “You’re the first one I encountered.”
She wasn’t someone I’d flirt with — that is, “flirt” as defined by my childhood = evil and disgusting.
My cleaning-lady and I discussed this: evil flirting versus acceptable flirting.
“Flirting,” for me, is great fun. I’m not trying to get cozy; I’m just trying to make the girl feel good = strike sparks.
I tell my receptionist friend at our motor-lodge in Altoona that the reason we keep using that motor-lodge is because that receptionist keeps smiling at me.
“Yer doin’ it again! You gotta cut that out! How am I supposed to be good boy when you keep smiling at me?”
Call that a “flirt” if you want; she’s smiling at me again.
To see her smile like that makes me happy, so “happy to see ya!”
She knows me, and I know her, so we strike sparks. We shoot-the-breeze and say hello to each other.
We enjoy each other’s company.
That girl’s dog mighta been a coonhound; although I’m probably wrong, since I confuse beagles with coonhounds.
“You ain’ nuthin’ but a hound-dog; cryin’ all the time!”
“He’s friendly,” the girl said.
Her dog was desperate to say hello to me = check me out. Yanking and pulling toward me.
“SNIFF-SNORT!”
I finally continued toward the parking lot; maybe 300 yards to go.
We passed and re-passed each other. Normally I woulda let the girl go ahead of me, since I trudge.
But they also were slow, so fell behind me.
Not often do I finish that rail-trail without being passed.
And not often do I finish that rail-trail without striking sparks with some pretty girl.

• Lehigh Valley RailTrail is marked with markers at each half-mile. During my hike I pass the marker at 11.5 miles. I put Killian’s ashes at that marker so I’d know where I put ‘em.