Jackpot

"Look! It's a Hovawart!"

The comment of the group took me by surprise. Not many recognize a Hovawart, and in Denmark, even fewer do.

We just returned from a walk on the beach and took a new path home when we passed by a rental in between two sand dunes. It had been empty for months, but apparently a large group of at least twenty had arrived during the weekend for Winter holidays and gathered outside to start a walk.

I nodded to them with a smile and looked back at Tilde who was following right behind me. Tilde also noticed all the smiling faces looking in her direction. The sudden attention of the group was replied by my fierce Hovawart bodyguard with an excited tail wag.

"We had a Hovawart once," another person in the group said, while they all kept their distance behind the fence. Tilde stood upright with her front paws placed on the fence now, her tail wagging had evolved into a wiggling body, the smile on her face went from ear to ear, and she made small wimps to be as inviting as possible, like a poster child of a Hovawart with serious cuddle factor.

"Awww, she is so sweet...," said the first person who couldn't resist while approaching the fence. She took Tilde's face in her hands and gave her a kiss, which Tilde happily returned. Then the next person came up to the fence, and the next, and the next, all lining up for a kiss from Tilde.

In Tilde's world, it must have felt like hitting the Jackpot. And, last but not least, I noted how she still is perfecting her skills to lure people into greeting her. Who can possibly resist her, I wonder?