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May 26, 2001


I like my ivy neat so I cut it with scissors and watched as each runner and tendril shed milk-tears of joy at being freed from their entanglements.   My dog was nearby squinting and grinning in the sunny cool-snap; she had been tethered by leash to a patio chair but, when she wasn't looking, I unhooked the leash clasp from her collar.   It was funny watching her inertia, fed as it was by the ignorance of freedom.

©  2001 by the beastmaster