Nowadays I walk Beatrice almost every morning. Beatrice used to have a simple rule--she likes people, and dogs bore her. Now her rule is more that she thinks people are okay and dogs do not rise to her radar screen very often, sometimes bore her, and sometimes hold a momentary interest. School buses, on the other hand, disgust her. She sees no point in the loud engine noise. She used several barks this week to let an errant school bus know that it was not welcome in her community. She feels similarly about the young fellow whose parents live behind us. His late-night efforts to modify his automobile engine result in a few fairly pleasant rumbles. Beatrice despises these rumbles. She sometimes has to be called in for the evening. Then the dreaded doggie door cover is placed over her way out as soon as she gets inside. I am tempted to write a comparison to one of the various human conditions that otherwise enable people when it comes to social skills and relationships. But that would be a disservice to both people who suffer from those conditions and to Beatrice. I might content myself with telling people--she's not hostile, she's not unfriendly. She does not want to be friends with your dog. You, she is fine with, but your dog, frankly, she will ignore, or perhaps show that your dog bores her. But that would seem unduly harsh. Beatrice and I try to show good manners, even as we walk on by.