In 1993, I was peddling a bicycle around Hong Kong; it had been leant to me by a policeman who was very keen on the Tour de France. I wound up on a street, which I think from memory, is called Nathan Road.
I met a dog, an Alsatian, which if it had been American instead of a resident of Hong Kong, would have been called a German Shepard. This dog insisted he was Alsatian and not German, and he added that he didn’t know f%&#* all about sheep because they don’t have a lot of sheep in Hong Kong.
I told him my name is Stuie and after we sorted out his identity problems, he said to me, “Do you want to discover something interesting?” I said to him, “I have been a student of the mysteries these many years; interesting things have always interested me.”
The dog said, “Follow me,” and so I peddled up and down the hills of Hong Kong as fast as I could, following a German Shepard who insisted he wasn’t German.
We wound up in the Red Light district. Some girls were standing in a doorway. The dog said to me, “What do you see?” Rather lost for words I said, “I see some Chinese girls in short red dresses.”
“Now you’ve got it,” said the dog.
“Got what?” I asked.
“Now you’ve got what this identity bullshit is all about,” said my Alsatian friend.
I was still a bit puzzled, but before I could ask for clarification the dog said, “Did you know that many of the Chinese are heartless; they don’t have a soul, and they treat animals abominably. These girls here are my sisters – they are Alsatian, because they have a soul and love everybody.”
I said to him, “Have you seen a grey mouse that’s very fond of Guinness?” and the dog replied, “As it so happens, I have.”
I said, “I’ve learnt a lot from that mouse,” and the dog replied, “So have I.”
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