Belgrade is full of stray dogs. A whole pack barked like mad around the Parliament late into the night yesterday. This morning I saw two of them at a pedestrian crossing close to the National Theater. Both were mongrels, but their German Shepherd ancestry was dominant. Confused by many people and cars, they appeared unsure of what to do. The smaller dog started walking across a couple of times, but then returned to its mate, who had failed to follow. On the third attempt it left the larger dog on the other side and crossed gingerly with the last group of pedestrians. And then it plopped itself on the pavement facing the other side of the street, waiting patiently. I left before the larger dog made its move, but it was clear everything would end up well. The dogs knew what they were doing. Belgrade is their oyster.