Meet Free. When I first moved to New York, Free lived in my building. He spent most of his time hanging out in the stairwell. I lived on the top floor, so I would always have to pass by him on the way upstairs.
Free saw himself as King of the Stairwell, and always demanded tribute. He would only let you pass in silence if you stopped for a couple minutes and gave him some nice head scratches. If you did not stop, or only petted him for a few seconds, he would bark wildly when you passed by.
I’ve long since moved, and it had been awhile since I’d seen Free. But I ran into him on the street yesterday. His owner told me that he’s in bad health— so he asked me to take a nice photograph.
