Really? On a Sunday?

“Chienne!” I scolded. “You’re a lady!” We were halfway through our morning walk, moving along at a brisk pace, when she made a friend. A little white puff of a dog had been running around a block ahead and she started to move more quickly to meet him.

“This is not a jogging type of trip.” I huffed out as I was tugged along behind her. I wasn’t worried though – the dogs here aren’t overly friendly. They’d tend to touch noses, sniff a bit, then wander off so we could move forward along our route.

This dog was friendly. He pranced along next to her. Flirting, I decided. I giggled as they ran toward then away from each other, lifting their feet up high and tossing their little ears. How sweet.

“He likes you.” I told her when she came near me. “Because you’re so pretty and smart and nice.”

Then he started to give what I’ll call inappropriate kisses (and I didn’t know dogs engaged in such behavior, to be honest.) This is when I started to get concerned. Then came the reminder that nice girls don't allow such liberties so early in the relationship.

Deciding my dog was apparently not a lady, I decided that my maternal role demanded I get rid of this forward little pup.

“Hi. It was nice of you to join us – hey! No! – but perhaps it’s time you head home.”

Seeing my words were having no effect, I tried to get between the two animals. I failed.

“OK, look, little dog. Even if you were tall enough, that’s not going to do any good.

"Get off of her!

"She’s been fixed.

"She doesn’t like you that way.

"Enough already!”

We arrived back at my house and he was the first one in the door. I didn’t mind, meeting Chienne’s what the hell? look with a raised eyebrow.

“I wasn’t the one who flirted with an over-sexed animal.” I informed her loftily, walking into the kitchen to fill a new bowl with water for her boyfriend.

“We’ll just look at his tag, call his parents and take him home.” Except I found, with no small amount of dismay, a reflective tag but no identification hanging from his bright orange collar. No name, no address.

“He was looking for a fling!” I said to Chienne, still enjoying myself a little too much. “There’s no hope of a future with this one. He won’t even tell us who he is.”

I called my parents to see what I should do. Mom said to put him outside – he’d find his way home. When I said I thought that was a bit harsh – he did have the good sense to fall for my Chienne, after all – Dad suggested walking back down to where I found him. Perhaps his family was looking for him or he’d get his bearings and head home. Pleased with that plan, I put Chienne back on her leash and we headed out, this time with the cell phone instead of the iPod. There was more inappropriate behavior, though my girl was beginning to tire of his not-so-subtle advances.

Mixed signals, I decided, walking behind them, scolding quite often. Though he had spent some time playing chase and barking at other dogs for her, he hadn’t really earned the right for excessive physical contact. She was playing a bit hard to get, or perhaps she decided she didn’t care for his shaggy tail and small stature.

“She’s not really ready for a serious relationship.” I told him. “Women do that – change their minds, waffle between wanting a man and not wanting this particular man. Then there are crushes that go too far too fast. Men who are too nice and don’t make a move quickly enough. Romance is hard.” I commiserated with this new friend, frowning when he abandoned my advice built from years of knowledge to once again try to sniff Chienne's private places.

We reached the end of the street – no traffic of any kind (or I wouldn’t have been talking to myself out loud quite so much) – and waited.

“Go home.” I suggested to him. “Chienne! Sit! Stay!" Then I returned my attention to the white dog.

"OK, look. I don’t want another dog – especially one who is so attracted to my puppy. I know she’s pretty, but she’s also a pain. Spoiled. Needy. And she snores lately – her allergies are really acting up. You don’t want to deal with that. So let’s just call this a harmless yet intense flirtation and you go home.”

No deal. He hopped around, trying to entice Chienne who was getting impatient with the sit/stay routine. So we came home. She pounced on him once en route – knocking him away when he’d finally had enough … um, attention.

“This is not cool.” I said to myself as I pulled her closer, fending him off with one hand. “It’s before 8:00 on a Sunday morning – the Lord’s day!” I told the white dog as I nudged him away with my foot. “And I’m dealing with semi-explicit canine behavior.”

We came home and Chienne pushed him out of the way – wanting in the door first. She’s at least 4 times his size, so she won. I unlocked the door and pushed her inside, picking him up when he tried to enter as well.

“You need to go home, sweetheart. I know someone loves you and they should have given you an ID tag on your pretty collar, but you need to find your way back there.” Then I hardened my heart, stepped inside, put him down and closed the door. Feeling awful, I sat on the loveseat for a moment. Would he be OK? Should I have kept him in the back yard and put up signs? Called animal control?

I went to the guest bath, took off my glasses and washed my face. I returned to the living room to angry barking at the front door.

“Fantastic,” I told Chienne, who had walked in the bathroom for safety, looking up at me with concern. “Now you have a stalker.”

He ran around the house – barking at all the windows, scratching at the door, for 30 minutes. I think he’s gone now, but every time I’ve looked in the past, he’s been scampering around, trying to find a way in. Chienne is now asleep on the couch, I desperately want some coffee that I haven’t yet made, and I’m wondering why this stuff happens to me.

I’m an awful neighbor. First the bike ownership incident, now inadvertently stealing someone’s dog and refusing it entry into my home a second time. But he has no chance with my girl now – trying a little too hard can be charming for a time, but stalking? Not sexy at all.

Once again, I'm accepting advice on the appropriate response to this situation so if it happens again (though I really hope it doesn't), I'll know what to do. Thanks .