A little boy sits on the wall, smiling slightly. His arms are clasped around a big, furry mound of dog. Around him the local children squeal and laugh. These are the same children who toss rotten vegetables at me as I walk past. The same children who hurl abuse at pedestrians and trick people into stepping into horse shit.
Today they are quiet, almost well-behaved. As I pass they ignore me, intent only on the dog and the boy. I can hear them asking questions:
‘Izee a wuluf?’
‘Duz he et cats?’
‘Wha’ duz he eat?’
‘Will he ate me?’
The boy smiles again, reassures the tiny girl, and she is heartened by this, steps up to the wall and reaches a hestitant hand out to touch the shaggy head. A few more minutes of questions and then boy stands up, dog jumps from the wall to wait at his side. The boy grasps for a harness on the dogs’ back, can’t find it until one of the children places it in his hand. He murmurs thank you and the dog walks slowly, carefully. Leading him home.