I sometimes wonder, when Loki is at his most playful, whether or not I'm dreaming.
He drew me off the porch the other night, not for a walk, not for a wrestle, but for a game of chase.
I was astounded, as astounded as I was when he first started reacting to his derramax, and ran, forcing me to chase him.
These are the moments I think I will treasure most, these late spurts of life.
These dreams, these memories, this drinking deep.
I hope I still play chase when I'm 98, deaf and lame.
Comments