I spent my evening at the home of my friends Dove, lorna and Kristin. Such an energy in that house, such a hospitable vibe. Sometimes you meet people with a real effortless grace about them and a humor that resounds. And sometimes their dog is Satan. Not the young Satan, vital and evil, stealing souls and making deals... tricking the greedy and short sheeting beds and whatnot. No, this dog was more the older fat Satan. Hooked on drugs and table scraps. TCB baby, woof! This dog at some point had had a stroke so his face was punished. The blank stare you got when you searched this dogs eyes for some sign of 'doggy' was unnerving. It was as if you could stare into the hole that's left when the fire of life burns on past the soul's departure. On top of this the dog had grown a mullet somehow. The curly fur in top of it's head along with the ears drooping down combined to conjure images of Z28's with T tops, flea markets and double wides! So deliciously white trash!
I only hope this dog is comfortable until the end, and the doggy that ran and played these years ago is running and playing somewhere...
else...