Professional Poop Scooper

she lifted up my shirt, saw my top surgery scars, and immediately went "WHOA! What caused THIS?"

I do know, however, from my observations, that the tiny funny dog upstairs is called Gucio. I've passed him once or twice during his walk and heard his owners use the name - and, while both the dog and his owners are oblivious to our existence, Gucio became an apt topic of discussion in our house. you know, we hear barking, ha, that's Gucio, he must be home alone again! or there's a stick left by the building door, that must have been brought by Gucio and he was forced to abandon it before entering! a household name, really.

yesterday as I was leaving to go to the store, walking down the narrow staircase, there he is! tiny funny looking dog, slightly startled by me suddenly appearing on the floor he just reached on his tiny funny looking legs.

"good morning Gucio!" I say joyfully, the most natural thing in the world.

well. remember that Gucio doesn't really know me. so he looks at me in the most flabbergasted way a dog can look at a person. he is positively aghast. agog! not sure how aware dogs are of their own names but he seemed genuinely puzzled at the apparent stretch of social convention.

and as I try to contain my laughter, I see his owner standing on the stairs below. the woman is sort of awkwardly frozen, speechless, and she looks at me.

"you... know each other?" she asks.