My roommates and I have been wanting to get a cat for a long time now, ever since we moved in. I don’t know why, we’re rarely in the apartment, too busy with classes and work. But we all want one.
I think humans have a certain dependency on pets to keep us happy, even when we have other humans for company. It’s comforting, in a way, and also, a bit selfish, in my opinion, because you know your pet will most likely never leave you.
The human race is so lonely.
Richard Gilbert | Longreads | July 2016 | 18 minutes (4,584 words)
Belle Krendl, “our” dog but really mine, is a furtive, ragtag creature. She suffers in comparison to our prior dogs—and to most we’ve known. In fact, she suffers in comparison to any pet we’ve ever owned, including jumpy, escape-prone gerbils; a pert exotic lizard that refused to eat; cannibalistic chickens that stared with malice in their soulless green eyes; and a sweet, dumb, tailless black cat named Tao who spent his life staring into space with huge yellow eyes—but once, in a blur, grabbed and gulped down a gerbil our daughter dangled before him by way of introduction.
A Jack Russell terrier, or maybe a Jack cross, Belle Krendl is covered in whorls of stiff white hair. Bristly brows and white lashes accent her black eyes, as do her lower eyelids, a disconcerting garish pink. In the house…
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