on my walk with my speckled hen of a dog this morning it smelled like rain. everything is light gray in the sky and the colors of cars pop out at you and my oreo dog looks blue. he tried to chase the birds that sound like they are hiccuping as they sit on the telephone poles. he taunts the other dogs behind fences, and played with another speckled dog who was brown and white. his name was oz.
sometimes i feel like my life revolves around this dog. but i guess his life revolves around me. so i a way, we are the same. i am reading this book by jose saramago and its about death. at the point i am, she has for the first time, had a dog sit on her lap and realized how wonderful it felt to be in that situation. this death is only the death of humans, not other living things, and she feels sad for the dog, as she knows it will die one day and so will its owner.
sunday commences. breakfast time.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
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