my dad hugged us stiffly on arrival and departure he almost sobbed, mortifyingly. in between he was one cold mofo watching sports tv, except when he'd had a few, or when he was ready for bed and nuzzled like a freakish child the lap of his second wife. cut to the present day, i'm still addled by his memory, i can hug on mister freely, but am sadly reserved with human contact, until i feel safely beyond scrutiny. maybe dog love leads me on to love expanding into human love, and if i can love humans, into everything. isn't that the goal of love, to be one with everything. my dad was a deadeningly exclusive love, a love that took you backwards, into the kernal of self, inside out, beyond everything.