A white dog with a nub of a tail and chestnut colored patches on its body and over its ears approached me, sitting to stare at me as I took my first bite of my wrap.

Or maybe to this adorableness! :3

I swallowed, and I told the dog,  “No.  This is too good to share, and it probably wouldn’t be good for you anyways.”

The dog cocked its head quizzically.

“Too good to share” – nice reason right there 😛

What is Taylor eating, anyway? Another chicken souvlaki, maybe?

“You are awfully pretty, though,” I told it.

I heard a scoffing noise from Bitch’s direction.  I turned her way just in time to see her glance away.

“What?”

Hm. Does she just not value prettiness in dogs (this would be in keeping with her usual attitude)? Is there something in what makes Taylor say this that Rachel can tell is actually a symbol of abuse? Or maybe she’s reminded of her disdain for dog owners who value prettiness over the health and thriving of the dog?

I was relieved when I got back and there wasn’t any carnage.

“Oh good, my teammate and friend? isn’t dead.”

But yeah, that is good.

A dozen or so dogs greeted me, many poking their noses into the paper bag I held.

D’aw.

I navigated my way through them to Bitch, who was sitting on a pallet of concrete blocks by the open back wall.  Sirius was lying beside her with his head on her lap.

“Food?” I offered.

Seems Taylor is getting better at moving through the dog swarm.

Should she be offering the food, or does that come across to Rachel as a sign of submission?

She reached down, so I got a chicken souvlaki wrap and a coke out of the bag and handed them up to her.

Eh, looks fine.

As she peeled the paper away from one end of the wrap, I found myself a spot to sit on a part of the wall where it was incomplete or damaged.  The weather had worn at the concrete blocks, and some greenery had managed to grow in the cracks, making for a not entirely uncomfortable seat.

I wonder just how old this building actually is. It seems like the work on it may have been abandoned when things started going downhill for the Docks, but I don’t recall if I know exactly when that happened.

Outside, behind the building, there was a field of uncut grass surrounded by chain link fence.  As they lost interest in the food, dogs wandered out there, chasing one another or baiting others into playing, trampling that long grass flat enough that we could see them.  The view of their playing was accompanied by a soundtrack of endless barks and snarls.

bork! :ÅD

Hm… this kind of feels like a transition into a quiet conversation with Rachel.