Happy Sunday! G's birthday celebrations have come to an end with a lovely post-birthday brunch at his parents' place. Afterwards I went running for the first time in 10 days, and while it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, it was a little bit hard.
Anyway, here's a stereotype that I've found to be relatively justified here in Germany: the Germans love their dogs. Well, okay, so G really doesn't like them (The last time I told him to come pet a French bulldog, he literally just touched it twice awkwardly with three fingers.), but I assure you that from the number of dogs out on the street everyday, I can tell you that the population of dog-lovers in Germany (or in Berlin at least) is enormous. And what I love most about these dog-human combos is the gap between the human and the dog. I mean, yes, you do see bad-ass punk guys with giant rottweilers and old ladies with toy poodles and sporty-looking joggers with sleek greyhounds. But once in a while you run into a bad-ass-looking dude with a fluffy little shih-tzu, and it just makes your day.