Wylie Van Armani Esquire

My dog is getting strong. Very strong. He used to be all ribs and was this little homely looking thing, but now there is no messing with him. He also is starting to get protective of me. He growls and barks at men, men with beards. He does not like men with beards. I on the other hand tend to lean towards facial hair, but that’s another topic. On a number of occasions he has lunged towards said men, almost ripping my arms off (see my last post on the puniness of my arms).
A few nights ago I was taking Wylie for a walk. Well it was more like he was taking me for a walk, dragging my up and down the streets. We came around a corner and there was a sweet little Siamese cat sitting there. Wylie lunged, I braced myself, but I was no match for him. The leash broke. He darted after the cat – who hopped a fence, and went flying into the backyard of a house. My dog, yes, he followed. Cleared the fence and went tearing through the yard and into the back of this house. I stood aghast. A lady came out of the house, talking in accent about how naughty my dog was.
I called, he came. Then he turned and went back into the backyard. I called again and he came. Then he turned and went back into the backyard. I called again and he came, the lady allowed me into her yard to come and get him. The cat made another appeared before I could grab him and he was off again through another gate after the cat. I corned my crazed dog and got him tied to the leash. Then a nice gentleman appeared. He thanked me for visiting and welcomed me back anytime.