i keep thinking about the poor dog mr. led me to. i think i dreamed about this dog last night. the dog was alive and crawled in between the stone blocks to die. why, how alive and die rhyme. i went back to see the picture of the lost dog i thought of on the light pole by the tunnel but it was gone. i don't think i'll mention it to her. what good would it do? maybe to see the dog in perpetual sleep? not crushed by the wheels at the side of the freeway. how would i feel, if it was my lost dog. every lost dog belongs to all. feel it. but i and mr. can be the keepers of this lost dog's memory. i guess i just wanted to go back and speak about this particular dog that i left unremarked in a sequence of frames that were a short shadow journey before. this dog is reminding me we are migrating shadows and this life is about the dog we left behind and miss and want to protect and preserve in life and memory and resistance of cruelty and indifference and forgetting and inevitable death. this is about the dog we miss in life.