I am over the NYC. Manhattan in particular.

I was already fed up the moment I got in a taxi at JFK and was stuck for more than an hour in a traffic jam. At midnight!

The heat emission from the city concrete. Constant buzzing of the air conditioners and electric aggregates sweating to cool the sodas sold from the food trucks at every street corner. The wailing of ambulance and police car sirens. The honking of the taxis and insanely loud music coming from the rickshas carrying tourists. The sidewalks like the rivers overflowing with pedestrians.

It gave me chills of excitement when I was twenty. Now it made me sick. It was too intense. So I would often look down and when I did I saw little furry creatures making their way among the feet of passers-by. The dogs of the NYC. The counterparts of their owners. Or not?

They were well fed and looked after, of course. Some wore shoes, bandanas or even skirts. Some were carried in dog strollers while out for a walk in the Central Park. Ironically.

They wouldn´t come into any contact with other dogs. There was no time nor space for that. They couldn´t even pee on a tree because the owners were advised to curb them and protect the plants instead.