The Dog on a Chain

The dog watched me from a bamboo thicket that was pressing itself against griselda's sprawling 19 sixtys ranch house. It was a ramshackle place in this neighborhood of neat and lavish mansions. I was also to scrub the dog down once a month, or so, griselda said, airily waving her hand. He stinks. And though it was true that the dog needed many consecutive washes to stop stinking, he and i looked at each other and tacitly agreed that i would not be the one to bath him. Me two hours to finish my chores that first day, and would take me an hour every day from then on.