Marrow

My dog is lying on the bed and taking up most of the room, even though she’s only small. Her velvet ears are veined and she has frowns on her whiskered face.

She demands to be touched, and makes noises in the back of her throat like someone wheezing. Her belly heaves though her milk has long run dry. I wonder if she’s lonely, or if she’s bored.

My frowning dog with her stiff, textured paws, thick with the smell of bone. Silent, anxious, silky. My dog of marrow-breath.

Marrow-breath, marrow-mouth, marrow-bone.

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