I was walking down Polk Street the other day, right near one of my new favorite restaurants. (Mmm, Burmese food. Not to be confused with Bernese food, of course. Or, for that matter, Bernie’s food.) backwards, trying to catch a last couple of pictures of another dog (which I’ll be posting sometime soon). And I suddenly felt something poke me in the leg. I looked down, and it was this gorgeous fellow, letting me know gently but firmly that he was not going to be ignored, and I was not going to get away without paying the dog tax.
Affable, fearless, and not the slightest bit shy about asking for what he wants. I want to be a black German shepherd when I grow up.
Also, why I did I write this up, get it all ready, and then go to bed without hitting ‘publish’?