From Underground Fav Uber-Writer Rebecca O’Connor comes a blog post (“About a Dog“) that includes a passage I read a half-dozen times, savoring it like you’d savor a perfectly grilled steak on a warm Saturday afternoon:

I don’t believe in dog as savior. I don’t believe that dogs are angels or gods. I do believe though, that there are bits of myself I refused to believe in, let alone accept and that a good dog is the embodiment of those pieces of me.

Dogs trust and adore and move forward with a faith in human beings that is, well, foolish. Dogs believe in a world worth pouring your heart into no matter the cost. They make me think of Kipling’s poem “If” and those lines I’ve always thought I would never be capable of myself, If you can force your heat and nerve and sinew/ To serve you long after they are gone./ And so hold on when there is nothing in you/ Except the will that says to them: ‘Hold on!’

I reviewed her category-defying memoir here, and little has changed since I wrote that; if you’re interested in jaw-dropping honesty in a memoir, buy hers.

See you licking your fingers, Tom Chandler.

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