Descartes believed that animals had no souls. He also thought they felt no pain, so when a creature we had wounded cried out it was only a mechanical response, like the way we kick, mildly, when the doctor taps that spot beneath the knee.
Some Questions You might AskIs the soul solid, like iron?Or is it tender and breakable, likethe wings of a moth in the beak of the owl?Who has it, and who doesn’t?I keep looking around me.The face of the moose is as sadas the face of Jesus.The swan opens her white wings slowly.In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.One question leads to another.Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?Like the eye of a hummingbird?Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?Why should I have it, and not the anteaterwho loves her children?Why should I have it, and not the camel?Come to think of it, what about the maple trees?What about the blue iris?What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?What about the grass?
I'm grateful for the visual feast of so much color on a day of worry.
Dr. Bravo says the Palladia is not resisting the disease. The biggest tumor is now 1.75 centimeters. I ask her to show me this with a ruler. Zoe has been on the drug for 7 weeks, but nothing is shrinking. She’s had three acupuncture sessions, and Chinese herbs, and she feels great, eats well, runs and plays with vigor, but the tumors are bigger.
|This was the first time I ever tried to take a picture of Zoe barking her head off. Another dog was across the river, barking back. What do you suppose they were saying to each other? Get off my island? I like your smell? Come here now? Vamos?|