Notes From the Dog
“I’d get up before Dad and stand on the back steps looking at my garden coming to life as the sun rose.
Today I scratched my arm as I looked over the yard.
I scratched my thigh and squinted at the vegetable patch.
I scratched my shoulder and glanced at Johanna’s house.
I suddenly realized that I was scratching my whole entire body. And that I couldn’t stop.
I ran upstairs to the mirror. I was covered in angry red blotches. I looked down, gingerly, everywhere. I grabbed the ba...g of cotton balls and the bottle of calamine lotion and got to work.
Dad and Fernanda were sitting together at the kitchen table sharing the newspaper when I came back downstairs. She’d brought fresh rolls for breakfast.
“You look concerned, son.”
“I think I’ve been watering poison ivy.”
“You’re joking.”MoreLess
Today I scratched my arm as I looked over the yard.
I scratched my thigh and squinted at the vegetable patch.
I scratched my shoulder and glanced at Johanna’s house.
I suddenly realized that I was scratching my whole entire body. And that I couldn’t stop.
I ran upstairs to the mirror. I was covered in angry red blotches. I looked down, gingerly, everywhere. I grabbed the ba...g of cotton balls and the bottle of calamine lotion and got to work.
Dad and Fernanda were sitting together at the kitchen table sharing the newspaper when I came back downstairs. She’d brought fresh rolls for breakfast.
“You look concerned, son.”
“I think I’ve been watering poison ivy.”
“You’re joking.”MoreLess
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