See a ’77 punk and his dog wear matching dog collars. The punks don’t bathe, and neither do their dogs, and while some of them panhandle, one girl sells ice cream out of her bag as if by magic. All the punks have dogs, but some have puppies, and the puppies, looking their toughest, trying hard not to wag their tails, seem to say, that’s right, I don’t give a shit.