STAY CLASSY, DALLAS

Pedestrian friendly doesn’t necessarily mean friendly pedestrians

I keep seeing on television that Dallas is becoming an urban mecca, a place where it’s easy and fun to walk everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. OK, maybe between the car and the house, and vice versa, as well as inside NorthPark Center.

Anyway, the point is it’s not all that unusual — or at least it’s no longer out of the question — to see a real, live pedestrian on a Dallas street these days. You know, the type of sophisticated, sleek pedestrian looking to cross the street or walk from one retail location to another just like in all of those TV commercials for new cars.

All of this is pretty typical in large cities. In New York, pedestrians basically have the right of way, and drivers know to beware of people walking everywhere, ignoring street lights and signs at will. The same is true in Chicago, in Boston, in Washington, D.C., in San Francisco — all places with dense urban development and a city environment that favors walking from here to there.

One of these days, we may get there in Dallas, but I’m not thinking that day will occur before I’m fitting myself for a flash-fried resting place in a pine box.

I did, however, encounter a single said pedestrian on a city street the other day. This bearded walker had a backpack and seemed content to be traversing the city afoot, at least in as much as I could tell from my vantage point in the driver’s seat of my car.

It was late in the day, and I had on my wrap-around, cool-a-few-years-ago sunglasses. I was sitting at the stoplight, patiently waiting for the light to turn green.

The street wasn’t crowded. This guy was the only dude around, in fact.

So I was surprised when, as he passed along the crosswalk in front of my generally unremarkable vehicle (a Mini Cooper), he decided to salute me after what he probably assumed had been a hard day for both of us.

Only his idea of a salute was a little risqué for a PG-oriented magazine, and it was lacking a couple of fingers that typically denote an indication of respect.

He was rather blasé about the whole thing as he crossed in front of me, too. He stopped precisely in the center of my car’s hood, turned intentionally toward me, pulled out the digit of respect, and made it clear he wasn’t “pointing” at the car next to me or the one behind me — no, this salute was clearly intended for me.

Then, just as deliberately, he holstered the weapon, turned back in the direction he was headed, and crossed the street in plenty of time to beat the signal change.

I have to admit the whole thing caught me off-guard, and I was glad my reflective sunglasses hid the at-the-moment bulbous whites of my eyes.

I thought about reaching for my opencarry weapon until I remembered I don’t have one, for that exact reason. I considered rolling forward a bit to ensure he knew I wanted to provide a salutation of my own. And I wondered if I should have rolled down the window and given him some directions about the next place he could go.

But by the time all of this had floated through my brain, the light turned green, and the driver behind me also seemed to believe I was in need of a salute, this time of the audible kind.

So I slid through the intersection and continued on my way home, marveling at the wonders of living in what is becoming a truly urban city.

Let him know how we are doing by writing to 6301 Gaston, Suite 820, Dallas 75214; or email rwamre@advocatemag.com.

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Radiation oncologist Dr. Michael Folkert and other members of our genitourinary cancer team are treating select prostate cancer patients with a technique that delivers a more potent dose of radiation in fewer treatments. Stereotactic ablative radiotherapy, SABR for short, is a technology that was pioneered at UT Southwestern and is now being adopted worldwide. It’s another example of the specialized care available at UT Southwestern—where scientific research, advanced technology, and leading-edge treatments come together to bring new hope to cancer patients.

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Petition seeks name change at Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee schools

“Don’t live in a state where our ancestors fought in the Confederate army if you have a problem with it. Like it or not, it is our history — right or wrong, our families fought and died in the war. If you delete the Civil War, that changes the history of our country and our state. This is absolutely ridiculous.” — Lindsay

“Instead of having a petition to change the name, there should be a petition to keep it. That way, years from now, your grandchildren will see your name on that petition and have something to be extremely embarrassed about.” —

Elliot Wilson

East Lawther Trail open for business at White Rock Lake

“I fall on the side of a waste of funds. Like the argument against, the money would have been better spent on a complete shoreline trail or resurfacing the blacktop by the bath house, which is in dire need of attention.” — WR

“It’s nice to be able to get up the hill adjacent to Big Thicket without wheezing or taking blows to your self-esteem. And the less concrete we have in Dallas, the better, especially for runners.”

— Darryl Dickson Carr

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Snapped

Snakes Among Us

When he’s not training at Octagon MMA gym in East Dallas, mixed martial arts master Klayton Mai spends his time charming snakes. He hand-raises up to 60 ball pythons at a time in his unassuming home. Pictured here is a piebald ball python, a native of Africa that carries a rare recessive gene that causes its graphicprint scales to be splotched with white. Don’t worry, ophiophobics, Mai’s slithering selection is sealed in a series of temperature-controlled boxes, so unlike cover-hog Eleanor Pigby, they aren’t going anywhere.

Flying furballs

Atop Flag Pole Hill on a Sunday morning, a commanding voice interrupts pleasant picnic-table banter.

“Everyone out of the shade to do Antar patrol,” trainer Melissa Sheehan shouts. “Places!”

Members of the No Big Woof Flyball team, uniformed in fluorescent yellow shirts, rise and form a wide perimeter around a small-scale obstacle course.

Antar the whippet-Labrador mix is something of an “escape artist,” team member Howard Jackson explains.

“She doesn’t mean to run away. She just sort of wants to take a victory lap to celebrate being unleashed. She usually only does it on the first run.”

At the starting line, Antar’s tail is a frantically ticking metronome, yet the newbie remains razor-focused. At her handler’s command she sprints and clears four hurdles en route to her destination — a box featuring a spring-loaded pad that, when pressed by paw, releases a tennis ball.

In a single motion the dog snatches the spherical prize, pivots and darts back to her expectant owner, Aafke Brouwer, a local artist who joined the team last spring.

Cheers erupt from the outer circle. Treats are awarded.

In actual competition, Antar would be part of a four-dog relay team. Those who drop balls or miss hurdles have to restart, forfeiting valuable seconds. The fastest foursomes win or move on to the next round.

Antar is fast and driven by an obsession with balls. Whippets are bred for speed. But this is no elitist flyball organization. “Melissa allows every dog on the team. There’s a dog with three legs … there’s little Bandit.” Brouwer gestures toward a dachshund-mix whose legs are no more than 2-inches long.

Another member calls Bandit a secret weapon, because hurdles are lowered to accommodate a team’s shortest member.

Jackson’s dog Huck isn’t as fast as Antar or team member Angela Miles’ Staffordshire bull terriers, a breed born sturdy and built for swiftness.

But the silky amber-and-white Australian shepherd-mix is diligent and eager to please.

Jackson happened upon the flyball practice three years ago while walking Huck, then a skittish and fearful recent rescue. They returned the next week to the beginner session, which precedes team practice each Sunday.

“Huck wouldn’t even let people pet him before,” Jackson says. “He had no confidence, no ball drive. Melissa had to find out what motivated him. Turns out treats make him tick, but it took a year.”

Since starting flyball, Huck is a new animal, Jackson says.

“It’s been so rewarding to watch him grow into the dog that he is today through coaching and socializing at practice every week.”

Coach Sheehan started 20 years ago, looking for something to do with her Jack Russell terrier Jake.

She is the dog whisperer, the team members concur.

“Most of the old-timers have been through more than one dog with Melissa,” says Nancy Howse, whose border collie Moss is a veteran flyballer.

With any breed, she can glean success. That doesn’t always mean winning.

No Big Woof has two competition teams: Dogs at Work and Dogs Under Construction.

Sheehan points out that they have the most diverse breed roster in the entire United Flyball League International.

“We are the street team,” Jackson quips.

But this lovable band of misfits is gritty and hardworking enough to steal the show at events.

“People start out watching the fastest teams, but they wind up watching the interesting ones,” Howse says. “We are interesting — the whole place stops just to watch Bandit.”

Still these dogs and owners are serious when it comes to training and competition.

“It is not easy to make a perfect run,” Howse says. “Timing is important. Avoiding collisions and false starts.”

No Big Woof-ers are driven by a rewarding combination of hard work and recreation, she says.

“The neat thing is that we are contenders, but we are having fun. And we win occasionally.” —Christina Hughes Babb

MORE INFO:

No Big Woof Flyball Club meets at 9 a.m. most Sundays at Flag Pole Hill. Visit Facebook.com/no-big-woof-flyball-club for news and announcements. Fee is $20 per month plus equipment costs. See more flyball photos on lakehighlands.advocatemag.com.

Little Tex

While he might be miniature compared to his iconic namesake Big Tex, East Dallas’ Tex makes up for what he lacks in size with an over-the-top personality. Readers picked him as winner of the 2015 Advocate Pet Contest out of 939 total votes. He loves people, lounging on pillows and blankets and, oddly enough, vegetables. His energy comes in short bursts, giving him about 5 minutes of fetch before he collapses in exhaustion. “This shaggy dog could very well pass for an Ewok and is unconditionally friendly,” said his owner, Jin Hewitt.

Editor’s note: If you submitted a photo of your pet to the online photo contest, keep an eye on our regular Pet Pause section in future issues, where you might see your furry friend and his tale in print.