yesterday he collapsed on the stairs again and was shaking. i picked him up and he was stiffening and vibrating. as soon as i set him down he wagged and when i left i saw him running down the hallway. i said i mo take him for a cherriot ride today and we did. he wants to go where i go, where we use to go. i want to photograph the ice trees, but they have cracked and melted. the city dump of the the lakefront has been pushed back, garbage, chinks of assfault, sheets of the new patches and the new path. disintegration reminds me of much i have tried to bury, that has been tossed up and accumulated around me. we think we own the lakefront, we think we own our collections we think we own the earth. we are sadly wrong. we are sick collectors and bad caretakers. 
anyway the sun was shining and mister was proud in his cherriot and in between he ran as he wanted to and then he got back in to ride and at the steps i he paused and i carried him to the top.