![]() ![]() There's something deep within me, something intensely fragile, that is terrified of turning itself to the world. It's hard to trust the world like that, to show it your belly. He offered us the place ribs don't protect, trusting that we weren't going to bite or stab him. I always marveled at the courage of that, his ability to be so absolutely vulnerable to us. And then he would do something absolutely extraordinary: He would roll over onto his back, and present his soft belly. ![]() He ran in delighted circles around us, yipping and jumping at nothing in particular, and then after a while, he'd get tired, and he'd run over to me and lie down. He was a puppy then, and in the early evenings he would contract a case of the zoomies. “My dog, Willy, died a few years ago, but one of my great memories of him is watching him play in the front yard of our house at dusk. ![]()
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