My brother introduced us to absolutely adorable
fluffy thing of a puppy called Eastwood – I suggested Ed Wood would have been a
funnier name.
The dog is won everybody’s affection. We never
had a dog at home – or any pet. The only pets we had were two small turtles of
the most boring kind when I was around seven – how could a turtle be of any
interest to a child anyway… They were left by an uncle who left France for the
United State. One turtle was eventually found dead while the other died because
my father forgot to give water to it while we were on holiday. We found it completely
dried up on its little rock. Even if I didn’t care much about the turtle, I
felt sorry for it. It was no way to die!
So Eastwood is the new member of the Tôn Thât
clan. For now he eats, sleeps and plays, and gnaws on everything he finds. I
suppose he will be doing the same thing as an adult.
Speaking of Ed Wood, I have been doing some
research about Tim Burton for the song cycle I want to write on some poems from
The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy. Biographies, interviews…
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