On why Buddy should not have swallowed the cigarette packet.
Goddamn him. They always said he was an ass-licker. Pretty much an everything-licker. The way he slobbered down the alley as I made my way, late as usual to work. With his dumb eyes he looked at me, probably wondering why anything but shit was ever invented.
Confused, yes he definitely is. Probably a half breed as 'Ogwarts would've put it, Buddy ambled on his lazy life chasing bright green tennis balls and empty cartons of cigarette; as I found out. He never did give a paw, or raise his hand despite several attempts and coaxing. Neither did he ask for more, he would come, "Pet me" and leave. That was quite his domain, you never had a say with the accurate amount of petting, it was all relative and the number of tennis balls caught that day would determine if he needed a nuzzling down the neck.
Whitey, on the other hand was probably his mother. No reason why he would ever shy away from an old, frail creature as she coughed and wheezed and puked and spat her way to doggie heaven.
The story was probably true. Yes, maybe a rickshaw did indeed ride over Buddy's paw. Maybe that's why the only thing that terrified him more, aside from me sneaking up on him were Autorickshaws. Never your everyday dog, Buddy would leap to safety within the confines of his domain as a rickshaw innocently tooted down the road.
Nope, Buddy was as scared as a cat. Probably more if he were to actually encounter one.
But that didn't explain his behaviour today. Why the cigarette packet?
More to come.