Anand and I walked all the way to Frendicoes at an absurd eleven p.m. in search of Loper. No sign of him, but found dozens of all kinds of dogs curled up on brown sack cloth outside the shelter. They were obviously puzzled to have visitors at that ungodly hour: some sat up sleepily, one started a dizzy squeak-howl, and another came testily barking at us.
A recce of the neighbourhood yielded nothing. Our only hope now lies in the enigmatic Frendicoes interiors. Tomorrow, as early as we can make it.
I miss that fat lard of lump. Funny, how affections grow out of less than sufferance.