
Ksusha
My main person: her lap is where I sleep on trams, in cafés, cars, and sometimes on planes. She takes most of the photographs — usually one-handed, because the other hand is occupied with me.
My small pack. Two people beside me every day, plus — somewhere outside Moscow — my biological parents. All of them end up in the frame from time to time, occasionally without their consent.

My main person: her lap is where I sleep on trams, in cafés, cars, and sometimes on planes. She takes most of the photographs — usually one-handed, because the other hand is occupied with me.

Responsible for routes, the backpack, and everything that needs to come along. The best companion for the forests of Crimea — out in nature he becomes a different person, calmer and slower.
Name, photograph and story to be added once we get in touch with the breeder. Her gift to me is the colour — a cool blue with silver on the ears.
Still waiting for a name and a portrait. On his side of the line, according to the breeder — long legs and a habit of pressing one's cheek against glass. That, it seems, runs in the family.
«Family is those in whose presence a dog doesn't pretend.»
— from the notes, November 2025