Pippen
There are no curtains on my kitchen window, so I people watch. There’s a couple who live in a basement apartment across the street. Every saturday morning, they walk their two dogs; one a Husky, the other a black labrador. Bombarded by the scents, sounds, and sights of the outside world, the dogs work themselves into a frenzy in the couple’s makeshift courtyard, forcing their owners to double and triple wrap the leashes around their hands and wrists to maintain control of their “babies.” I watch as “Dog dad” wags a finger dripping with stern severity towards the dogs, imagine him using words like “sit” and “stay,” and am impressed with the speed and frigidity of the dogs compliance to the commands. After a moment, “Dog mom” reaches into her jacket and pulls out treats she feeds to their dogs in recognition of their good behavior and obedience. This makes me think of Pavlov. I think he would be proud. This makes me think of a bedroom in Brooklyn. This bedroom doesn’t belong to m...