Friday, August 24, 2007


Sometimes, I will lay on the floor, with my head propped by Mister Toto's furry little body, like a pillow. He will sit there lying peacefully, as I rattle off my serendipitous monolouge.

"Toto," I said today. "You are a good dog, you know. So, don't die so early because I will be very sad. All right, Toto?"

And he wagged his tail, swishing the damned tail into my face.

You think he understands?


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