The Particulars of Peter

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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I think once a person has a dog the idea of not having one quickly becomes absurd. I know there are other ways a person can fill their time—golf, et cetera. I know you can Hula-Hoop. You can pan for gold, or “do some work at a café.” I know a person can exist without the ability to make a creature they love thrash with uncontrollable joy, wild-eyed and ecstatic, at the mere mention of din—; hush, that's enough, they're already excited. I know you can watch TV without a dog resting his paws and head on your leg, breathing quietly, warming you and allowing you to feel like you're having a real human experience rather than idly ingesting The Sopranos, I know you can go to sleep without a dog in your bed and wake up without a little face staring down at you, whiskers in your eyes, and a nose dripping onto your skin, waiting for you to take him outside so that he might urinate. But... why? Why even wake up at all?

THE PARTICULARS OF PETER

THE PARTICULARS OF PETER