Dogs, three different ones.

My dog. I tried to take a picture of her a few minutes ago and she wouldn't look at the camera. She acted guilty and shied away exactly like she does when she's taken a dump in the house. But I didn't find any. I must seem mad because I keep leaning down and looking directly into her face.

Cassie not looking at the camera.

Lydia on the other hand, still sprawled out on the bed, thumped her tail happily when I went upstairs to get her picture. She is bold, brassy and slightly aloof. In some ways the "L"s in their names were the only thing Lincoln and Lydia really had in common. Lincoln was constantly behind, next to, and around us, where she spends much more time alone. He happily went along with it when you grabbed him and pulled him close to you. Lydia will cuddle, but completely on her own terms, and she has to initiate. She sleeps in the bed with the humans, and when she's picked her spot, she seems to summon weight out of the air and drill herself down into the mattress. You kick her and push at her; she leaps up for a second and retakes the exact place.

Lydia thumping her tail on the bed.

Like a dog Lydia will eat nearly anything. Cassie, I have to lock her in a room with her food, then go in there and repeatedly pick up and place the bowl in front of her until she finally, tentatively noses a few kernals out onto the floor and nibbles at them. She won't fetch. In so many ways, I'm still convincing her to be a dog. She most often has a look of nervous anticipation and cluelessness as she paces the house (E is taken to calling her "Pacy") following you close and then stopping in front of you while you're walking, like a gate.

I'll post better pictures of both dogs later. The camera is having issues.

But she'll tuck her head into your lap when you pet her, never leaving until you stop. She clacks her teeth together when I come home and leaps up to put her paws on my chest. She stretches out next to me on the couch and we spoon. She has charmed and adopted Elizabeth. Another story, how I got her, but her breeder knew she deserved and needed a family back on the Collie farm (when her name was "Classy") because of these qualities. At last, at night, Cassie abandons all her aprehension and becomes as much like a dog as she is capable, belly up and oblivious. No longer seeking our company or approval, peculiar characteristics that are uniquely her own come out and you get a glimpse of a mysterious and inscrutable self. Like people, dogs hold tight to something of their own. And like people, the feeling in your chest of forever reaching for another glimpse of someone's secret self is probably what we're talking about when we talk about love.