suzanne says when an animal gets sick i teeter on the brink of the abyss and i tell her i always teeter there even when i was little i had that dream abyss i was always racing the crumbling edge of unable to veer off or fly. now the dream is an animal succession, a dog namely usually.

and this unique soul gets meshed in mine, imagination i suppose, meshed in my hopeful life, my unlived life, and where my imagination fails they rescue me like a lost pet self.