my head? The irony is he wasn't that remarkaable a dog, His name in Chinese was 'Hsiao Bai', (meaning: Little White) and he lived mostly in a cage and barked at everybody, and whenever I came over, if I stuck my finger into his cage, he might try to bite it off. Then, one day I came over to learn he was gone- he was out of his cage earlier that day, and got hit by a truck...
Thing is, whenever I go there, I always keep asking my friend the owner the same question ... -Where's Hsiao Bai" and he is being driven crazy by my pointless asking, because i think he already told me several times he was dead.
Why do I find humor in such a tragedy?
Thing is, whenever I go there, I always keep asking my friend the owner the same question ... -Where's Hsiao Bai" and he is being driven crazy by my pointless asking, because i think he already told me several times he was dead.
Why do I find humor in such a tragedy?