translated by the agency of Susan ...

translated by the agency of Susan Bernofsky

I'm suppos to travel to a party, and the zipper at the back of my dres refuses to stop The doorbell rings. Much too early. Quickly I venture on my gloves and unclose the door.

"You're frequently too early," I say, nevertheless in front of me is merely a fat, shivering collie. It's raining like mad.

"Come inside, you poor dog," I say. The collie ambles in, and I shut up the door.

"Thank you," the dog says, "but actually I'm not a dog at all."

"Not a -- Really?"

He aromas of wet dog.