Although I swore I would never get another maid again, it occurred to me that my dog spent too much time alone, which is not good for a little loving lap dog. Duchess has spent much of the last three weeks dragging around listlessly: even taking her out for a bike ride (I ride, she runs) has failed to cheer her up. Attempts to find someone who could come during noon to walk her failed: I raced home from school every day at noon to give her a walk and a cuddle, but still she drooped. When I took her outside, she tried to pull me to the subway stop, the place where we meet friends: it was clear that she thought if she could just get to the station, someone beloved would emerge.
Then, like an answer to a prayer, my former ayi called and told me with tears in her voice that she missed the dog SO MUCH and could she please come visit. Ah, music to our ears: the rapturous reunion between Ayi and the dog brought tears to my eyes as they tumbled out kissing one another with slightly open mouths. My ayi, who does indeed resemble Oprah, brought her husband along as well. He too was thrilled to see the dog (slightly less thrilled to see me.) And so it goes: Ayi is back three days a week to wash my dishes, play with my dog, pry through my drawers, and gossip with the neighbors. She also leaves me snacks, such as today's lunch of chicken and mushrooms with a corn fritter, and I couldn't be more pleased. Duchess is taking a nap on my bed--on my pillow, to be exact--worn out with happiness. I envy her bliss.
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