“He smiled, looking into the flames. "He used to sleep on the foot of my bed, bad breath and gas and all, and I even took him hunting.""It's odd to take a dog hunting?""Max? Yeah, sort of like taking along a brass band. He saved a lot of deer from death.”

“I was told he could never go back, for he had shot his own grandfather out hunting and his family would impale him if he fell into their hands. Turks are never convinced by a hunting accident, especially if it is the heir who removes the owner of numerous flocks. All the same, Joseph was an honourable knight; perhaps his grandfather really did look like a deer.”

“And even now, even after all I put him through, he's saving me. I've been trying to find my way into the light for so long, and he just comes along and takes me there.”

“Yeah, I went hunting once. Shot a deer in the leg. Had to kill it with a shovel. Took about an hour. Why do you ask?”

“Up home we wear a hat like that to shoot deer in, for Chrissake," he said. "That's a deer shooting hat.""Like hell it is." I took it off and looked at it. I sort of closed one eye, like I was taking aim at it. "This is a people shooting hat," I said. "I shoot people in this hat.”

“The old woman had an old dog, but he hardly counted any more. He was so old that he looked like a stuffed dog. Once I took him for a walk down to the store. It was just like taking a stuffed dog for a walk. I tied him up to a stuffed fire hydrant and he pissed on it, but it was only stuffed piss.”