You know you’ve lost it when you attempt to bathe a street dog.
This street dog (the white one):
I’ve named him Casper.
The quick story:
Maní is gone. She’s living with my parents in the States while I finish up the last two months of my service (stay tuned for her immigration tale.)
Casper is one of her best dog buddies in town. Since he is without a home, and I am without a four-legged companion, my side project this week has been to bond with him. I’ve been giving him Maní’s leftover food and he’s even been sleeping inside the house on a make-shift bed by the front door. Things were looking up for our friendship.
But alas, today I crossed a line. Today I tried to give the guy a bath. And he ran off half-shampooed.
At least I have one reason to be thankful for all this rain we’ve been getting: it seems to have done the rinsing for me.
And now I will attempt to use a hash tag, just like all the kids do these days: #thisiswhattwoyearsinasmalltownwilldotoyou.
