Yesterday we were taking a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood with Pippi when we chanced upon the Cafe Wamp tucked inside a bunker-like space beneath the overhead expressway. Capitalizing on any usable space (defined broadly), the gaps under elevated transit lines of all sorts often house a variety of commercial endeavors like shoe repair shops, dry cleaners and sketchy bars only open after sundown. Because of its menu posted outside and friendly-seeming folk seated at street-side tables, I took a closer look. Much to my surprise, the small shop not only carried dog paraphernalia alongside tea and cakes, it had actual dogs. And lots of them. Curious, I approached the proprietor, an amiable chap who spoke rather good English since he used to play football in Florida. A dog lover, he rescues dogs and keeps them at his shop until he can find homes for them. At the moment he is maxed out with motley collection of mostly pit bulls and a few mixed breeds, all big dogs. The animals looked a little bored but well tended. Clearly they get a lot of attention from the Wamp staff and customers.
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