A Pigeon and a Hotel, Gone

Today's walk proved interesting. Walking down 2nd street toward Texas Ave., while we enjoyed looking at a tree full of pigeons, we heard a pellet/b.b. gun and watched as the pigeons flew away; all but one. I looked around a bit nervously to see where the shooter was. I never saw him. The pigeon lay dead on the nice brick patio of an expensive home. I felt vunerable to whomever might want to kill someone from their living room. We kept walking. All along I had been hearing a boom noise in the distance. This boom was getting louder. The closer we got to Texas Avenue, we saw it. A big cherry picker tearing down an abandoned hotel from back in the day. I wondered if Dad had delivered groceries there when he was young or visited friends or relatives there. I held the dogs outside the bank as Barry took care of our banking business. I watched from the bank parking lot as the cherry picker gently nudged each wall to assist in its collapse. It was loud and exciting. We walked passed it on our way home and bid our farewells to a part of TC history. I noticed Sammy limping. I checked his paw and a sticker was lodged between his pads. I pulled it out and he was happy.