Cutchum

Cookles and sprocklets. When I was young I had a puppy. I named it Leotard. It changed from a puppy into a dog, so I renamed it Carnivar. That dog I had for many years, until something went terribly wrong. Blunderbush. How many moonscapes did I cry in? But I was young then. Sometime later I found a kitten in a roof’s gutter, though I hate cats. I named it Porcelainpine. It tried to learn to fly, and I gained a certain respect for it. Barnababy, juckle. What’s a pet anyway? Throw names at them; sometimes they retrieve. Othertimes, no.