THE LOST DOGS OF LANGSTON.

THE LOST DOGS OF LANGSTON Entry 3. Tinky used to play with Shelby and Lily and I called them The Three Graces, Shelby Lee and Lily B and Tinky Wee, she was smaller at the time, I thought it would be a wonderful painting of them all three playing with their red ball out there in the yard, like for a t-shirt for an animal rescue but that didn't happen and now it never will because Tinky bit Lily one day and we had to separate them (my preferred pronoun is we, it just seems safer and also really more authentic considering all the voices that come out) and later we let them play together again but sure enough Tinky bit Lily hard on the cheek this time, so we separated them yet again and then one day they got together by accident and got in this huge fight and I was screaming at the top of my lungs and with all the rest of my vocal apparatus which is probably why I'm so hoarse and scratchy-throated nowadays but I grabbed that sixty-pound dog by the back legs, I don't remember which one it was, and hauled her back into the house and from then on they were not allowed to get together at all except for the one other time that was an accident and they almost fought to the death. Nothing could separate them, I couldn't haul the one dog off and the water hose didn't do shit and I just gave up and let them fight it out. Somebody got whupped because Tinky ended up in the dog toilet which is the little alleyway between the two leaky garages...well one of them leaks, the other might not be so bad... ...and so then they had to stay separate, HAD to, because I didn't want to go through that again. They don't love me, you know. They just do what they want and expect their food and sometimes they're affectionate but Tinky is really independent, she knows I cannot do a thing with her and she resents that and she is waiting for her particular perfect person and I sure hope that person arrives. Her favorite person and her favorite world. Isn't that what every dog deserves? I think yes but I can't do it all and I was really trying to. I set out to and found the difficulties just added up along the way. I am wore out, slap wore out and whupped and lying in the dog toilet licking my wounds, but then I have to get up again and feed somebody or take somebody out or bring somebody in or take them to the vet or what-have-you, and whatnot. I don't get much rest here. It's called re-tired because you are tired all over again. Stevie Ray always wanted to leave me too. I built a huge Andy Goldsworthy fence all around the front yard for him and all he did after weeks and weeks of work, carrying sticks and logs and vines and shaping them into this lovely natural fence, well he just jumped right over it and headed into the neighborhood. I nearly died trying to catch him, I don't think my lungs have ever worked that hard. All's he wanted to do was go see all the other dogs, Mama. I'm not your mama, you won't even stay with me. Let's see who will.