A golden retriever. She's six months old, which means she is mostly legs and wants and a quantity of energy aimed in no particular direction. She is asleep at my feet as I write this, and she is the second golden of my life. The first one belonged to my childhood. This one belongs to whoever I've turned into since.

She just woke up. She put her head on my foot, sighed, and went back to sleep. This powerful animal, choosing stillness. I don't think she has any idea she's the best argument I've ever seen for the thing I'm building.