Outside an apartment building, Jay Street, 9 p.m.

Completely androgynous elderly person, smoker’s voice, to me:

Those are beautiful dogs. Are they gentle?

Me: Thanks, yeah.

CAEP: And the weather. Isn’t it nice?

Me: Sure is.

CAEP: Are you the guy from the other street?

Me: Well, I don’t know if I’m who you’re thinking of. I live around the corner.

CAEP: Yeah, yeah. Your dogs are beautiful. Are you a gentle boy?

Me: (I assume CAEP was addressing Roger) Yeah he sure is.

CAEP: My cat. The heat has been so bad on the cat I had to take him to the vet.

Me: Too hot?

CAEP: Well he had to get one of those, you know, (makes pointing and shoving gesture) enemas. Because he was so, so, so stopped up.

Me: Huh.

CAEP: How old is he?

Me: Roger is about 5.

CAEP: He’s 35. You know, for every year it’s seven years.

Me: I’ve heard that. They pack a lot of living in, I guess.

CAEP: And how old is the other one?

Me: Twelve or 13

CAEP: (tilts head, pauses) She’s over 100.

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