No, no, that’s my brother. I never pose.
Don’t have the patience, I guess. You think there’s a family resemblance? Maybe, I don’t see it myself. Of course, we’re a little vague on the subject of paternity. Not like our gringo friends who come down with their masters or mistresses. I wonder who has the better life. They have a full bowl of something from a bag each day and attention from their owners. Not that I’d want the attention some of the males get from a sort of dog doctor they go to. Even the senioritas I hear, beautiful some of those poodles, but well. . . no pungent spark if you get my meaning. Ah, San Miguel is full of wonderful smells which can make for a long walk around the town for some dogs on a leash. I’m proud to say I’ve never been tied up. I have hard times in winter when the restaurants are quiet and it is cold but I’m a humble fellow and I curl up with my amigos ( or amigas! Carramba!) and wait out the short winter. Fleas? They are a bother but a good scratch and a dust bath does wonders. Even my famous brother who has grown fat on the wall sometimes creeps down and barks at night to wake the gringos. . . Just for the hell of it. Viva free doggies!