Somewhere on Alexander the Great, an elderly lady walks on a leash a puppy that looks as old as her. Coquettish lady, with a thick turban on her head, glasses on the tip of her nose, and a bag.
The dog with the white hair, without blue blood, and without impressions. A retired maidanez. He sucks on her, and waits for her. They both walk, not hurrying anywhere. They don't have all the time in the world anymore, but they seem to have had each other since the world began.
The old woman leans on her cane from time to time. He looks at her, seems to know how long the pain lasts, and waits for her. After three steps, the puppy thinks twice, and makes a short poop on the sidewalk. The old woman stops, because it's her turn to wait. Take a newspaper out of your bag, and wipe the dirt off. They continue on their way together. The step. A step learned in a human life, and in a dog's life. Life lived beautifully, and aged as well. Kiss my hand, ma'am!
A story born at a glance. And said in one thought. And lived during the pandemic.