In Edinburgh Gardens I check my calendar and realise I’ve got my times wrong.

I don’t start till ten a.m.

I think about calling my sister.

My sister’s name is Brigitte, and at the moment she’s riding around Tasmania on a bicycle.

I call Brigitte.

It goes straight to her message bank.

There’s nothing to do so I park my bike and sit under a tree.

I watch a labrador sniff the arse of a poodle.

Several metres away, this mid-thirties brunette in joggers, tights, and a spandex top says to her staffie, ‘Sit.’

But the staffie ignores the mid-thirties brunette and walks to the labrador, who ignores the staffie, being more interested in the arse of the poodle.

The mid-thirties brunette watches all of this and says, this time louder, ‘Sit.’

But her staffie keeps panting — sort of, like, smiling at the labrador.

And I think: go boy.

Get in there.

Do it.

And then the staffie is doing it.

Putting its nose into the arse of the labrador.

And the poodle comes full circle and links up with the staffie.

And they start moving.

All the dogs, snout deep and in a circle.

And I think: rim-job-dog-train.

Just dogs being dogs without a care in the world.

Maybe Steve Roggenbuck was right: dogs are the most #YOLO animal in the world.

The mid-thirties brunette yells, ‘Come back here, Bobby!’

But Bobby doesn’t want to do that.

You can tell by how tensed and visible his muscles are through his black coat.

And I think: this is determination.

Bobby is determination.

I will name my kid Bobby if I ever have a kid.

And at his twenty-first birthday party, I will tell all of Bobby’s friends about the staffie who put his snout into the arse of the labrador because he wanted to.

Bobby will be embarrassed but also proud.

We will drink beer together.

And once I am out of earshot his friends will say, ‘Wow, your dad is so cool, not like my dad, not like Pete’s dad!’ and someone else will say, ‘Pete’s Dad is a fuckhead!’ and everyone will laugh and I will know this because Bobby will tell me the following morning over a game of chess that lasts for hours because we tell each other everything and are fiercely competitive.

The mid-thirties brunette blows a whistle.

She screams, ‘Bobby!’

And I think: stay strong, Bobby.

Stay so strong.

She says, ‘Goddamn it, Bobby.’

Waving her hands.

And for a second it seems she realises that Bobby doesn’t speak English but then that second passes.

And she says, ‘I swear to God, if you don’t come here this minute …’

She pauses.

She looks at me and I look at her.

I offer her a weak smile.

She says, ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’

And I say, ‘Nothing.’

She yells again. ‘Bobby!’

And she walks forward and hits Bobby on the head with a Chuckit! tennis-ball launcher.

I think: fuck you, lady.

Bobby is too good for you.

And I look at Bobby and think: I should kidnap you, but in a good way.

Like, I should rescue you.

I imagine taking Bobby to work, feeding him water from a special KeepCup bowl that I make just for him, showing him to Lisa, seducing Lisa with Bobby, purchasing a car and driving with Lisa and Bobby somewhere, putting Bobby’s head out the window, getting Lisa to take a photo of Bobby’s head while we are going very fast so that his tongue and face are pulled back in a way that when we upload it to Instagram it gets a million likes and also comments like ‘happiness’, watching as people message me out of the blue because they understand that I am a caring and clean individual who takes care of his dog’s teeth and gums: win at life.

The mid-thirties brunette puts a leash on Bobby.

I watch them leave the grass and walk towards the car park.

And I think about telling Lisa my plan.

On Facebook message, I type: ‘What if I got a dog and we drove to the beach?’

But I delete it.

Because there’s nothing worse than suggesting something great and not doing it.

I’ll text her once I have the dog.

Bobby II.

And the car.

I have a job now so this is possible.

And when this happens I’ll tell Lisa to wait outside her house and I’ll pick her up in the car with Bobby II in it and the two of us will drive back to my share house where I’ll have made dinner and there will be candles pre-lit on the table and I’ll be glowing, not only because of Lisa and Bobby II, but also because of the fridge that will be in my share house’s kitchen, the new fridge that will replace the non-existent fridge we have now, and the windows will be closed and the heater will be on because I’ll no longer have to keep the windows open to cool the kitchen to fridge temperatures.

I moved to Melbourne six months ago and I haven’t made many friends.

I want to make some friends.

I want to be more like Bobby.

I think: I’m going to work in the day and write my memories at night.

I’m going to make friends somewhere in between.

My iPhone dies and I’m not sure what the time is.

I think: just leave now.

Just get on your bike and go to work and make a good impression.

And Melbourne: I’m ready to meet you.

Ready to burrow deep inside of you.

The world’s most liveable city.

I leave Edinburgh Gardens and ride to Fitzroy.

KeepCup HQ.