Loved these dogs. Lying there looking like a couple of fat arctic wolves, motionless except for lazy breaths and fur flitting around in the wind. Outside of Walden Pond Books in Oakland.
I was sick for most of the time that I was in San Francisco, which was really unfortunate and awful. I did have one good day. The last two times I've been there have been so magic-free, though. I loved it when I was younger. What happened? Maybe I just need to go when the desert is on fire again.
I'm having a serious twentysomething or death-induced existential crisis at this time. Although I do think it will end positively.
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