A passerby and his pooch brought a huge grin to my Winter weary face very early this morning. I was standing idly in front of the garage after running the car, when I heard a series of yaps and yelps that heralded the arrival of a man laboriously pedaling his bicycle down the street. Where did he come from? I was standing right there the entire time. He just appeared out of nowhere, though I admit, I had heard the incessant barking of a small dog which preceded his arrival. The streets around my neighborhood were still slick with packed-down snow and certainly far from clear to the bare cement, but this older gent soon caught up to my house, then rode past me on his two-wheeler. He doffed his hat and called out “good morning Missy from me and Buster” and I responded back with a wave and a smile “and a good morning to you too sir, and Buster as well” … hmm … “Missy” … well, I kinda liked that moniker, it’s been awhile since anyone has called me “Miss” or “Missy” and that rather made my day. The dog was sitting in a makeshift bike carrier, which appeared to be a fisherman’s wicker catch basket with the lid flipped back and the straps bound onto the handlebars. There was an afghan or something woolen, maybe a sweater, tucked inside the basket, as well as Buster, a Yorkshire Terrier, who was sporting a felt cloth coat and wiggling around, alternatively “smiling” and yapping at the top of his lungs. The silky hair on his ears was blowing in the breeze and I thought a tiny pair of earmuffs might be in order. Buster clearly was enjoying his primo perch and spending some quality time with his master. They were gone in a flash, just about as quickly as they arrived, but I watched them until they became just a speck once they got past the next block. They were a memorable duo – man and his best friend, cruisin’ along on their version of a bicycle built for two.