Rockin walkin

Urban hiking sweated out about the last of the flu; lots of ground covered to complete errands. As I crested the top of one particularly long hill out of one neighborhood and into another, I heard a woman crying aloud for help. I saw her, struggling with her dog, and rushed over to see why she was upset. Her dog, an eight-year-old greyhound-looking creature, was trembling violently, and unable to walk very well. She said he suddenly seemed reluctant and/or unable to put weight on his rear right leg, and his heart was racing tremendously. She asked if I could help her get him to her house, which was about a half block away. As we slowly moved the dog, she saw her husband drive up from work, and called him on her cell phone. He brought the car over and they loaded the poor dog into the back to take him to the vet. She'd said this had never happened before, and I haven't any idea what was wrong. I will never know.
Strange section in a perfect fall afternoon, loaded with leaves changed but still on the trees; the cottonwoods along the Ship Canal were nearly all transformed into golden-bangled towers. No zombies in sight anywhere.