He seems so docile.

I'd think that for someone sitting with a woman wearing crinkly alternative-style pants and reading a novel which appears to contain as much angry gen-x style material than you could stomach, he would be a lot more fierce. But his eyes are soft and gentle, and I smile at his quietness. He lifts his head occasionally to watch as the train doors open, admitting and releasing passengers. His silky brown hair is subtlely beautiful.

She continues to read, and he moves only with the jolting movements of the train. A man nursing a scruffy lapdog regards him with fear, masked thinly by disgust. As though he would think of harming that tiny dog! He looks too peaceful to ever be violent.

I must admit, though, that he startled me for a moment. He's very large, and his studded collar was disquieting. But I'm used to him now - he's even fallen asleep whilst she reads quietly to herself. I'm not afraid anymore.

Yes, he's beautiful - for a doberman. I far prefer Alaskan malamutes, myself.

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