Harry is very particular about visitors.
There are some people that make him smile and prance like a pony! There are others that make him growl and snarl and lunge.
It's not always a good thing that he isn't crazy about some men. Very big men seem to make him go insane with anger.
Ramon, the tall, handsome black man from South America, came to take down the outside Christmas lights he put up for me last month.
Of course, I hurried and put on my most fetching pair of sweatpants, my leopard stilettos, and a quick spray of "Coco" by Chanel to go outside and greet him.
"Hola, Ramon," I said. (I know I was impressing him with my knowledge of Spanish, his native language). About the time he grinned at me and started to say something in response, the foaming-at-the-mouth beast we call Harry charged the fence.
Harry growled. Harry lunged, throwing himself into the fence over and over again. Harry was shaking the iron fence with so much force I thought he might knock it down. Harry trembled with outrage and gave Ramon his best impression of a rabid wolf on steroids.
Ramon stopped grinning. I pulled Harry into the house and closed the door. Harry ran to the window and barked hysterically while trying to break the window to get to Ramon.
Ramon finally got down all the Christmas lights, put them in the back of his pickup truck and drove away without a word. It's sad really. He and I could have been good friends. Plus I wanted to take his picture.
Then Harry went in to take a nap.