I’m so happy. This morning I went to Chapel Street—which has loads of interesting shops (and people) on it—to buy my friend a present and I WAS THE ONE WHO GOT A PRESENT because the most beautiful Italian Greyhound in the whole world was waiting for me outside this weird cafe/co-working space. It was such good timing because I was feeling a bit sad because of my life and also because I just saw a man sleeping on the sidewalk. I was casually thinking about if I could do anything for this man although to be honest I didn’t really want to go that close to him. And then suddenly there she was!
I rushed over—one cautious eye on the sleeping sidewalk man—and showered the Italian G in eager pats. It’s one thing to see an Italian G, but to pat one? I am the luckiest person ever. OF COURSE THIS WAS THE ONE DAY I FORGET MY PHONE so I couldn’t take any pics for you. This wouldn’t be so upsetting but last time I saw an Italian G my phone was out of charge so I just feel like the world is against me and I’m really sorry.
Anyway, I decided to have my coffee at this co-working space so that I could stay near the Italian G-hound, but I needed to get some cash out. Leaving the IGH was almost impossible but eventually I tore myself away because I knew it would be so worth it to be able to look at her while I drank my coffee—talk about a rush!
I found an ATM quickly but a group of teenagers all took turns using it before me—stealing my precious Italian G time—and I’m still mad about that because just as I returned the owner came outside and started untying his incredible Italian G-hound. I thought about saying, “I like your IG-hound” or “Please don’t take your lovely IGH away from me” or “Please, you don’t know what this means to me and how much happier I will be because of it” but instead I just stood awkwardly nearby and pretended to be interested in a poster for a gay club (it was a little bit interesting actually). He left without a word and that was that.
Italian Greyhound Description
This amazing Italian G was brown and white with pied markings, which was exciting because usually I only see monochromatic IGHs. She had big brown eyes, a long, narrow face, and stared despondently at the door every few moments—no doubt wondering why she had been abandoned on the sidewalk! I sensed that she was sad and that made me a bit sad but I was also extremely happy because I had her all to myself. She was beautiful and so skinny and I just wanted to feed her all day.
a sad look on your doggy face.
If I could take you home,
you would never be alone.
The owner was a man around thirty-five/forty with dishevelled sandy-coloured hair and semi-hipster fashion. I was not particularly attracted to him but as he left it occurred to me that he was probably my soulmate and I’d just missed the opportunity of a lifetime, but then I remembered that just because someone owns an Italian Greyhound doesn’t make them my soulmate. Sometimes I get confused about that.
Took my IGH away
Should have followed him
This whole thing took place outside the Revolver Co-working Space (I did end up having my coffee there in the end and I have to say: considering how hipster the barista looked, I expected it to be one damn fine cup of joe. But it was just a slightly-above-average joe so I don’t know anymore how strong the hipster barista/amazing coffee correlation is). The place is on Chapel street, which is a super cool street but also a lot of people look like crackheads and are actual crackheads. The Italian G was tied to a pole beside a bin, right near the gutter and diagonally across from the sleeping sidewalk man. I wouldn’t have tied my precious IGH so close to the road (or the bin or the sleepy man, for that matter) but I suppose the owner was just ducking in for a coffee to-go, so maybe I’m not really mad at him.
This was the best dogspotting experience I’ve ever had so far, and now my mood is a lot better and I think I might actually have a good weekend and get heaps of stuff done because I’m so inspired. I just wish I could have stayed with that gorgeous Italian G a bit longer or that the sandyman would have asked me to join them for a coffee and maybe then come back to his house for a while and play with the Italian G in the backyard and then who knows but maybe that’s overthinking it and he’s probably got kids and stuff anyway and I don’t really like kids that much.