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About Sapporo

I scoop her up, right, all smooth-like. “Come with me, darling,” I purr, Bond-style. She’s shakin’, not stirred, ha! Smelled like wet socks and despair—vets know that stench. Took her to my clinic, thinkin’, *Christ, this one’s a fighter*. Reminded me of Ida again—“life is a shadow,” y’know? Gave her a bath, fleas jumpin’ ship like traitors in MI6. Pissed me off, those bugs—tiny bastards suckin’ her dry.

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First off, I’m headin’ down to the shop on Naka-dori Street. It’s a nice little stretch, ya know? Trees on the side, people walkin’ their dogs, the smell of fresh sushi from that joint on the corner. I’m thinkin’ “Life’s good.” But then, BAM! I step in a puddle. Not just any puddle, but the kinda puddle that’s like a mini lake. My shoes are soaked. Great start, right?

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