Wednesday, December 12, 2007
I breathe dog. The human body sheds x amount of dead skin every minute which floats about in the air around us and gets inhaled. There is this lost dog that's sort of adopted us, he just came to our house and refuses to leave (maybe animals could sense kind people hahah). He is a bony mangy cur by appearance, but very good at heart with the best of intentions. Sometimes when he barks nonstop at 3 in the morning at some invisible foe I wonder if his intentions aren't a bit too good. For lack of inspiration I call him Boy, and since he's so lazy and sleeps all day his name has been upgraded to Lazy Boy. And boy, is he one furious scratcher! He scratches like it's going out of style; his manners need a little improvement in that department. He doesn't care who is in the room, what they are doing; if the urge hits him he scratches away like there's no tomorrow. And because of him the house is now knee deep in his fur, and the skin and dust particles mixed with all his fur constitute the air we breathe. Sounds polluted? Yeah sometimes I'd feel like kicking him out of the house but when he cries outside the door and near my window my resistance would break down and once again I would open the door with bleary eyes and let him in.