lady of the house

there's this cute dog at the Little Tibetan Guesthouse, where i am staying. Poogsu. she's the only clean-smelling non-mangy dog for about 100 miles. which is impressive, considering she exists so close to the ground.

i have been told, repeatedly, that i shouldn't call her "girl," because she's a boy. but she's got something of a french woman in her, i tell the staff. look at the glistening white hair, hanging all silky down her elegant back. look at those auburn ears. i lay my head on hers... look! same color hair!

the tibetan waiter is wishing i would just order another pot of masala tea, and stop talking crap he can't understand again.

he leaves. poogsu, my pretty doggy friend, stays. she loves my love.

for about another three minutes.

then she gets bored with me, and makes this big show of not needing me anymore, sitting up, looking around for the next best thing. then, swinging her hips out at generous angles (you want to tell me that is a boy?), she raises her pom-pom tail to the sky, and strolls away like a fluffy katherine hepburn showing me her asshole.

Poogsu really looked a little like this.