annie wanted to come see us from across the street. she's fourteen. dear annie. she has gone blind and deaf in the space of six months. she knows us by our scent. in the limestone enclosure i was feeling how mister's senses are changing, how he drifts and browses, looks up and, unseeing, gets anxious and looks for me. he needs multiple whistles and hand waving sometimes to find me. maybe my scent is so like his own he can't smell where i am.