Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
7
A Spare Rib
When the Man waked up he said, “What is Wild Dog doing here?” And the Woman said, “His
name is not Wild Dog anymore, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and
always and always.”
—Rudyard Kipling,
Just So Stories
, 1902
I didn't dream of Dad at first. In that vaporous line between wake and sleep, though, I would
relive his last weeks and sit up, pulling in my breath.
Everything and nothing had changed in those few months. Solo now looked like a power-
ful Velociraptor—his head still too big for his body, his tail like a large motile rudder. He'd
missed me as I flew in and out of town; he let me know by screaming and crying, then dash-
ing off to grab a toy to shove in my lap: Play
now
. He wasn't a dog who did depression. If I
