Time hurts, pink and inviting, a rump spot of gristle to bend over and gnaw. Skitter in circles, nip, tuck and play, white teeth and licker chops, grizzle up close.
Dogtown’s strays are mixed like the attitudes that treat them. Some feed them and offer them a place, others revile them and shoo them away. There’s some religion here, dogs are unclean as well as just dirty, but for the most part it's personal if the hand reaches for the scraps or the stick. The strays don’t breed here, they are bought in, unwanted runts from other litters, dropped in the night to gather the next day. Just like the scrap here, the dogs get recycled, some find new homes whilst others still wait.