January 19, 2012
To run through tall grass, chasing the rabbit out of whipping shadows, you can't imagine it. You don't have the teeth to smile it.
Scent that! Go, go, go, smell the eyes! There, and — there! Closer (so warm, so good) Turn now? Turn now? She'll turn. She'll turn there. If she slips, she'll slip there. She'll want — yes, the down place. Over it! Oof. Sand. Different. Different run. Gouge and run, gouge and run, where —
Whistle? Whistle! House-woman whistles! I'm coming! Ranger's coming home! Can of food! Can of food! Straight home! Want the slidey floor! Home! Home!