Buddy: The Good Boy is so sick. I finally caught up with him today when I spotted him lying under a parked car. I greeted him and could see him wag his tail a bit, but he wouldn't come out. I couldn't even lure him to stand up with a treat. I tossed the treat to him and told him I was sorry he wasn't feeling well. Later on in the day, I headed back over to see him during a break. The treat was still under the car but he wasn't there. He was under a parked van nearby and when I went over to see him his eyes were barely open and his nose was dry and chafed. He stood up and walked slowly over to a tailor's shop and went inside. I followed.
The tailor is and older guy with a wheezy voice. Buddy had already crawled under a table and I noticed a container of dog food at the door. I asked him if Buddy was his dog, and he said, "yes." I asked if he was sick and was told he was.
"Where is he sick?"
"I don't know."
"He looks sick. I'm so sorry. He's a very good dog and I like him very much."
"Well, please take care of him.
I never knew if Buddy had an owner.
If I could speak better Korean I might have gently suggested he take Buddy to the vet. Poor thing. He really looks terrible and has lost so much weight in just a couple weeks. As I was walking away, I noticed there were a couple piles of puked up dog food on the pavement.
Kamikaze's lying beside my feet now, meowing when I stop petting him to type.
Notes And Views: Leaving London
3 hours ago