Bookfield, Red Doberman

At another house, a large red Doberman came down the asphalt driveway in a strictly business like fashion to check me out. I stood still with my hands at my sides. It was a chance I took; typically a dog that walks up quietly is not to be trusted, but will not start by attacking. He sniffed every inch of me, and then pushed his wet nose under my hand. My hand came to rest on the dome of his head. I petted him, and he licked my hand. This dog’s owner said that his dog was able to use judgment too. He said that things would have been different if I was a man, or black.