What else can be said about a dog’s words? They hear them like flights of birds. They hear them as life revealed. A dog doesn’t care about rhetoric. Nor does a dog think of words as habits of affection or disapprobation. For a dog every word is fresh—even those words contained in their lexicon. When was the last time I thought of a word as new? I had to ask myself. I couldn’t answer. I remembered the poet Ezra Pound saying “poetry is news that stays new”—maybe Ezra was thinking as a dog. The body of a dog corresponds with the sprit of a dog. Words are little trampolines of the emotive.