Mary Flanagan brought me this book to workshop this week. “I just thought…” she said, then her voice trailed off. I started reading it this morning, on the Tube.
This isn’t the cover of the book I have. Books have all sorts of different covers, in different markets. Probably the one here is the American market. Here is the one I am carrying in my bag.
Listen to Wild Dogs:
“We come out to the woods every evening and call to the dogs, and they never come back. And it is not about love, although we love the dogs fiercely. But the dogs didn’t understand love when they lived with us and certainly don’t understand it now. Whatever they felt for us then wasn’t what we know of love. No, it wasn’t about love. It was about belonging. Once we belonged with these dogs, belonged to them, and now that they’ve left us we don’t know who we are.”
When we get to Connecticut, Colin and I will be ready for a dog.
