Pittsburgh Steve lay under the RT 366 bridge where it spanned the San Gabriel River. His back was flat on the cool earth and he gazed up at the underbelly of the bridge. The night air was alive with sounds. the rushing water of the San Gabriel and the sounds of insects soothed him. Pittsburgh Steve had a small fire crackling beside him. A catfish was simmering in a pot on the fire...
Read More...My eyes caught something moving high on the bank and I watched as two more stray dogs emerged from the tree line. The two dogs plodded into the shallow water to join their companion. There they all stood for a brief minute, looking upstream at us, then they trotted out of the water and climbed the opposite bank. We were relieved that the strays had little interest in us and we climbed back into the boat and shoved off. We had drifted downstream about 10 yards when a fourth stray dog, this one being much larger and wilder looking, came running down the bank into the water. Its yellow fur was matted with mud in several places. The dog paused for a brief moment as it caught sight of us...
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