“Each dog marks a section of our lives, and in the end, we feed them to the dark, burying them there while we carry on.”
“I’m thinking we should have a vibrator ceremony. Maybe we can all stand around inthe dead of night, carrying candles and chanting while she buries them in her backyard,”
“We're killers, all of us: We kill our lives, our past selves, the things that mattered. We bury them under slogans and excuses.”
“Did I want a dog? No. Did I need a dog? Also no. We were six kids running for our lives, not knowing where our next meal was coming from. Could we afford to feed a dog? Wait for it—no.”
“We don't get over losing the dogs who have been a part of our lives. We just get used to living without them.”
“. . . our stories are what make the difference, and if we can tell them honestly we can hope to help each other. In the end, we have nothing to offer each other but our stories.”