I don’t know what she’s doing, but she’s doing something right.

A week ago I mentioned that my dog Mildred, the world’s greatest English bulldog, received one helluva compliment, one coming out of nowhere and from a stranger, and one that pleased both of us, especially since the typical comment from the stray man or woman on the street draws attention -- out loud and in spoken, if obviously uneducated, English -- to the entirely disputable contention that Mildred is fat.

I’m pleased to report that since then Mildred has enjoyed two more unsolicited compliments, observations I record verbatim as fellows:

No. 1: “Oh my God, that dog is beautiful. Just gorgeous. Oh my God, honey, come and look at this dog!”

No. 2 (his pick-up truck coming to a screeching halt on S. 12th Street): “Damn! She’s beautiful! How old is she? [Six.] Beautiful! I love it!”

Take that, those of you so insecure of yourselves that you feel compelled to make fun of a dog.

Oh, and will someone remind me to read this to Mildred when she wakes up? She’s been sleeping since 10 o’clock this morning, nearly -- gee whiz -- 12 hours ago.

[Post-publication addendum (December 3): Darn it. Add one more point to the negative side. Tuesday morning a woman passing Mildred and me on the sidewalk remarked to her two companions: “Cute dog. But it’s so fat!” Now, one of this woman’s companions was rather large. I can’t help but wonder how well that observation went over with the nasty one’s friends. Do people like this woman think, even for a moment, before they open their stupid mouths?]