‘Hello?’ I was too late. I got only a dial tone. The phone number was the same, however, so I waited there, dripping water on the carpet, but she...never called back. * * * A week passed. A cool front moved in, replacing the ninety-five degree afternoons with something a little better. I began to emerge from my funk. I discovered the best way to deal with Irene was the same way alcoholics deal with their affliction: ‘Today, I won’t think of Irene.’ Saturday I worked in the yard. I watched two. I even began looking forward to the bracing chill that brought me wide awake every morning. That was actually better than a cup of coffee because I didn't have to pee 20 minutes later.Outside was different though. It was springtime in Washington and so the wind was cool and the sun still distant. It rained often and the ground was soft and spongy and cold. I had no shoes, no raincoat or anything, I was a bitch, a female dog, and I had come to enjoy that role even as I wondered how long it could. More

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