That's interesting; I always think of animals as small children, the sort that forget about things easily and want to move on to the next thing.  They definitely feel things, you can tell from their faces and actions.  I just don't know that they feel something as complex as regret (some people have a hard time feeling that), but probably ( Read more... )

One day when I was over at the old house, Maria had eaten something a while before (I think it was a cherry popsicle) and started coughing because she choked on water.  She saw the syrup on her napkin and mistook it for blood; she ran around yelling "I'm spitting red!  I'm spitting red!" and I thought it was a neat phrase to use. 

To be honest, I probably won't be sticking to them past the first two hours of January.  The reason why is that I never make any.

Resting.

At night, they'd tell us stories
While we rode around the field
And they'd laugh at us hiding
But then they'd be the ones to get eaten,
Because all these stories were real.

[el chupacabra]