The dog has grown impatient with my grief. Familiar now with my waves of sorrow, she quietly retreats. This is interesting to me, since I am also (nearly) silent, I wonder what makes her realize that I’m hurting. Her insistance on hiding or softly slipping into another room is also curious. We form a tangled partnership of discordance — between what is tangible and what is elusive, what is acceptable or not, what is expected, what is extracted, added, remembered, forgotten, lost and acquired.