“When people visit my farm they often envision their dog, finally off-leash in acres of safely fenced countryside, running like Lassie in a television show, leaping over fallen tree trunks, shiny-eyed with joy at the change to run free in the country. While they're imagining that heartwarming scene, their dog is most likely gobbling up sheep poop as fast as he can. Dog aren't people, and if they have their own image of heaven, it most likely involves poop.”

“We humans may be brilliant and we may be special, but we are still connected to the rest of life. No one reminds us of this better than our dogs. Perhaps the human condition will always include attempts to remind ourselves that we are separate from the rest of the natural world. We are different from other animals; it's undeniably true. But while acknowledging that, we must acknowledge another truth, the truth that we are also the same. That is what dogs and their emotions give us-- a connection. A connection to life on earth, to all that binds and cradles us, lest we begin to feel too alone. Dogs are our bridge-- our connection wo who we really are, and most tellingly, who we want to be. When we call them home to us, it'as as if we are calling for home itself. And that'll do, dogs. That'll do.”

“I don't think twice about picking up my dog's poop, but if another dog's poop is next to it, I think, 'Eww, dog poop!”

“I like dogsBig dogsLittle dogsFat dogsDoggy dogsOld dogsPuppy dogsI like dogsA dog that is barking over the hillA dog that is dreaming very stillA dog that is running wherever he willI like dogs.”

“To some dogs I don’t like cats, to some cats I don’t like dogs, and to some people I don’t like. Mostly the people I don’t like are lawyers, lobbyists, and politicians.”

“If you have a dog, you will most likely outlive it; to get a dog is to open yourself to profound joy and, prospectively, to equally profound sadness.”

“Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnellleaving is not enough; you muststay gone. train your heartlike a dog. change the lockseven on the house he’s nevervisited. you lucky, lucky girl.you have an apartmentjust your size. a bathtubfull of tea. a heart the sizeof Arizona, but not nearlyso arid. don’t wish awayyour cracked past, yourcrooked toes, your problemsare papier mache puppetsyou made or bought because the vendorat the market was so compelling you justhad to have them. you had to have him.and you did. and now you pull downthe bridge between your houses,you make him call beforehe visits, you take a loverfor granted, you takea lover who looks at youlike maybe you are magic. makethe first bottle you consumein this place a relic. place iton whatever altar you fashionwith a knife and five cranberries.don’t lose too much weight.stupid girls are always tryingto disappear as revenge. and youare not stupid. you loved a manwith more hands than a paradeof beggars, and here you stand. heartlike a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.heart leaking something so strongthey can smell it in the street.”