(Esther Ln, Surry Hills)
Gerald the Dog was always agreeable. He lived in Surry Hills with his owner and was known about town for his youthful optimism and yellow skin. He stayed close to his owner’s feet around the home and up and down Bourke and Crown Sts, to defend him from harm.
Gerald was tidy and well-mannered. He always took his dishes to the kitchen, occasionally loaded them in the Miele dishwasher or even did them manually, propped on a bar stool while scrubbing in yellow rubber gloves. He always scooped his own shit too. He placed it in sealed bags and remembered to drop those turd stones (they were yellow like his skin) in the bin every night, after drinking his hot milo.
Aside from productive days at dog training school - where Gerald learnt gymnastics, Latin and classical piano – he also had an active social life filled with weekly dinner functions, dogtail parties and $1000-a-head fundraisers.
(Crown Ln, Darlinghurst)
But Gerald’s life quickly fell to pieces.
On meeting a group of hipster-puppies from Newtown that "partied", Gerald’s fortunes began to unravel.
He began drinking heavily and experimented with drugs. One night he managed to rack a five-gram bag of
meow meow before "going inter-spieces" in an orge with a pink poodle, LaPerm cat and a heavily tattooed goldfish.
After partying with these puppies for a few months Gerald was expelled from dog training school, became a stray and had several bitches up the duff. He was addicted to a concoction of drugs, most notably meth, and scavenged for money as a "ladydog" outside
Campbell House, giving tug jobs between methadone hits.
You might say poor Gerald’s life went to the dogs.
Woof.
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