 The bird would dive through the gap only a second or two in front of the dog, whirl about as Joker snarled and foamed in rage and begin to call the canine names in Spanish. Lapa's favorite pastime was riding on the handlebars of Red's bicycle as we sped down Pridemore's Hill. He would extend his stubby wings and yodel at the top of his lungs as the wind rushed by him, then bitch at the bottom if we did not do it all over again.