Tag Archives: dog/ cane

The long way home

I am struggling to get home, being chased by some invisible but threatening force.  I make my way in the blackness of night, taking a long way to get back home.  I know that I need to make it through three tunnels, when I reach the third tunnel I feel relieved, on the other side of the tunnel I enter into the basement of my house.  There are still some narrow maze like paths to take, but I know that I am almost home and I feel the proximity of my grandmother.  When I arrive at the staircase going up toward the house I see my daughter’s bath, still full of water and her toys, and again I feel relieved. I go up the stairs feeling happy that I made it home.  I open the door at the top of the stairs, going out into the garden that I need to cross to get to the door of the house.  Then, just as I think that I made it I am attacked by two vicious dogs.

Lost Dog, Mouse on Deer, Dog-Cat-Monkey

I had a dog (don’t own one). White dog, large dog; loved this dog. And I was apparently visiting back in Mexico, because I’d run into an unstable old lover that I had hoped to avoid. She somehow convinced me to leave my dog with some of her friends, someone I didn’t know, and I was suddenly ‘carted off’ to someplace else. I couldn’t get a straight answer out of her about where to find them, and was on my own, kicking myself for even letting myself talk to her in the first place.
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13 Dicembre 1911

Un cane mi stava sul corpo, una zampa accanto al viso.

F. Kafka, Diario del 13 Dicembre 1911

#6 Luglio 1971

Una gag alla Jerry Lewis: un uomo travestito da cane (é solo dallo sguardo – brillante, quasi rosso – che si capisce che non é un cane) esce tirando il guinzaglio e obbligando a correre l’uomo che lo conduce. Il vero cane, seduto in poltrona, lo guarda uscire, poi si alza sulle zampe di dietro (come un animale da cartoni animati) e comincia a mimare un incontro di boxe.

A Jerry Lewis style gag: a man dressed as a dog (it is only by the look – bright, almost red – that you understand that it is not a dog) comes out by pulling on the leash to run and forcing the man who leads it. The real dog, sitting in a chair, looks out, then stands on his hind legs (like an animal in the cartoons) and begins to mimic a boxing match.

G.Perec, La boutique obscure

In real life

I had this dream as a child. I was standing outside my stepfather’s work at night and there were dogs running through the lobby. One dog was wheeling himself in a wheelchair. The door opens and one of the dog bites me on the wrist, I realize the pain is continuing in real life, and wake up to find that my wrist is bent backwards.