Sergei
I pretend I’m engrossed in my breakfast while secretly watching Angelina on the opposite side of the table. She’s holding a spoon frozen halfway to her mouth, and stares at Mimi who’s nudging Angelina’s side with her snout.
“Relax. She won’t bite you,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“She only bites people when I tell her to. And you’re too bony for her taste, anyway.”
“Well, that’s a relief, I guess.”
“She wants you to pet her.” I nod toward the dog. “If you don’t, she is going to pester you all day.”
“She doesn’t exactly look like a cuddly type.”
Because she isn’t. Mimi doesn’t like new people. Or people in general, to be more exact.
Angelina reaches out to scratch the top of Mimi’s head, and Mimi licks her palm. The way my dog acts around her is unexpected. She started following
