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Wet Fur

This story came to me wholly formed in a dream one day.  I wrote it in a white hot tear, desperate to capture all the details and emotions that had seemed so immediate in the dream.  It’s about how our pets live such short lives compared to us.  It’s about what happens when someone tries to do something about that.

It’s told in second person, but I like to say that it’s told in second person for a reason that’s important to the story.

You can tell the dog owners when they board the plane; they see the black cloud hovering in the first row and their eyes widen in shock, then narrow in fear, followed by a glimmer of a smile, a hope as they glance at so many occupied seats. A hopeful smile that seems to say: “not for me. Not for mine.”

Publication Details

First appeared in , August 2014