Have we isolated ourselves so much that we need dogs to start a conversation or meet people?

The scruffy dog met them at the door to the barn.

The dog trembled, whining, and wouldn't quite meet my eyes.

Scarlet was howling, my favorite dog, the one I'd met originally.

Wexford had an idea, drawn partly from experience in looking out of his office window, that when two dogs meet they inevitably fight.

On my way back to the carriage, the dog met me.

Yapping dogs met the incomers at the edge of the village.

A great floppy dog met us halfway up the drive.

I wondered whether the dog had met its nemesis on the mountain.

Every time my dog meets another dog, he just has to go through this whole bum-sniffing ritual before we can continue our walk.