Sunday, July 9, 2017

He Got The Point

The kindly looking old man sitting on the bench outside the cafe motions the dog over, and to my surprise she stops, maybe just to halt her blocks-long march to the vet that I've dragged her on today.

We quickly establish that he speaks no English, and I no what-I'm-guessing-is Italian, so we resort to broad gestures and elaborate facial expressions to get our respective points across. I realize that it's actually pretty hard to communicate that your dog doesn't really like people in general.

"Tutti!" I finally seize on, spreading my arms wide to encompass the world, and then putting on a mean, growly face with my teeth bared.
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One year ago: My Bad Hand
Two years ago: Safe Bet
Three years ago: Just Trying to Help
Four years ago: Invisible

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