Spring breeze. Calm early evening. Streets vacated of bustling young families with their impolite offspring. Hurrah.

Stare far out, over the horizon.

Suddenly, a gentle voice starts whispering.

You need to walk a tiny bit more – the Far Eastern Asian lady tenderly reproaches Momo.

Or else, you will get too plump and your legs won’t be able to walk the stairs leading to your tiny apartment.

Watch out, as they are steep (and also full of dust). You are way too elegant to fall on your hinder legs, you see little Momo.

Now here is a good boy. But you are heavily shedding, aren’t you little Shiba? Spreading the love with all your hairs. All one would want is to get a new sweater done with your charming woolly doggie fur.

The Far Eastern Asian lady turns around, looks over, finally acknowledging my presence.

I have recently found an Australian company that knits vintage sweaters out of your pet’s discarded coat. Bizarre idea, isn’t it?

Sounds appealing. Embracing my achingly cold limbs during the winter months with my Shiba-wrapped arms. I murmur.

Dog hairs are chic and add to my joie de vivre so I would definitely order such Shiba sweater. Now I am day-dreaming.

I wonder about the Australian knitter that will steal my pet’s discarded coat. But only during my convoluted dreams, and when it starts raining outside. Because wet dog hair smells delightfully and my little Shiba’s fur is no exception to this rule.

Sayonara little Momo-san, the Far Eastern Asian lady tenderly says, almost caressing us with her gentle voice, before quietly walking away.

I wonder how she knew his name. One never knows when we’ll be receiving a foreign visit during our sound sleep.

I must remember to sweep the stairs when I get back home.