“Where'd the dog go?" I ask, sounding panicky."That wasn't a dog, Zara," he says, words whisper strong.I jerk my head up. "What was it then? A cat? A gerbil? A geriatric hamster?”

“When someone asks, Dogs or cats? I usually say, For what, dinner?”

“Everyone should have two or three hives of bees. Bees are easier to keep than a dog or a cat. They are more interesting than gerbils.”

“I always see to the dogs first and leave the cats and the occasional birds and rabbits and hamsters for later. It isn't that I play favorites, it's just that dogs are needier than other pets. Leave a dog alone for very long and it'll start going a little nuts. Cats, on the other hand, try to give you the impression that they didn't even notice you were gone. "Oh, were you out?" they'll say, "I didn't notice." Then they'll raise their tails to show you their little puckered anuses and walk away.”

“Dogs are exceptionally intelligent creatures. My dog, for example, taught me that not only am I a cat person, but that it isn’t really a dog at all, but that it is in fact a cat.”

“I don’t think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understandhopeful and selectively blind as the next guy, but because I don’t think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understandit on your own. It’s like when you’re starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the “cat” is connected to an actual cat, and that “dog” is connected to an actual dog. It’s that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we’re still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. But that’s only spelling.”