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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