(Barkley, when he's hungry)
Last night I slept with all of the windows and sliding glass doors wide open. The winds rushed back and forth through the house, the puppy slept close by. The trees outside my bedroom window danced and whispered and sighed. I was down for just over 9 hours, almost a personal best.
This morning, I am not allowed to eat. I must have blood drawn. It is that time in life again. If something is going terribly wrong my doctor wants to know about it, then he'll want to tell me about it. We will have to have that talk where he encourages me to change.
Feeding the dog seems unfair. He should have to go hungry with me, like two trees united in the winds. Solidarity, and all of that.
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