We are stopped at our usual Barstow panera stop on the way to the undisclosed location. I am not too thrilled about the trip, not into Christmas, but I need to see my mom.
Last night we were at A’s place. He read to me. He played Jimi Hendrix for us and we danced. I pet his dogs: Button, Penelope, and Cora. Cora is the underdog. I like her best–she’s little and sweet. Button is alpha dog, I think, and A favors her.
“Would I be correct to say you don’t give a care about the dogs?” I asked.
“I don’t give two fucks about the dogs,” Ming says. “No, actually, I like the dogs. I’m liking the dogs more and more. Especially the one who lays on its back and I play with it.”