She’s got the pointed snout of a pure poodle, a show dog with disdain radiating from dead black eyes. Her nose strains toward the ground like it’s preternaturally afflicted by gravity, much moreso than the rest of her face. Her jaw slopes down, two long ski hills meeting at a pointed chin, with only a hint of lip before nostrils begin. Occasionally her tongue slips from between her lips and swipes them with a quick layer of moisture. Her breathing comes in rapid spurts like pressure escaping a loosened valve. Her dense, curly hair covers, for the most part, her pointed ears.