My name is Will

I am here today because J invited me. She is my human and this is her stack. She brought me home from what she called “the pound” on April 23, 2018. More than eight years ago.

The vets there said I seemed to be 2 or 3 years old at that time, which would make me 10 or 11 now. They also said my hips were very bad so even people who liked me decided not to adopt me. But that’s not the point. The point is April 23. J says that was William Shakespeare’s birthday. So she named me Wilby, as in Will B. Shakespeare.

Now she mostly calls me Will. I haven’t written much, but I do think about the world and I have learned to read. The other day I read about the oldest shipwreck ever discovered. It went down about 4,000 years ago and contained amber beads, ebony, almonds, figs, cumin, chisels, daggers, razors, gold. Plus pomegranates.

Pomegranates are pretty.

Sometimes I read about outer space. I’m into smells. But not into how outer space smells, which is like a mix of gunpowder and barbecue. I’d like the barbecue, of course, but given that mix, I’d way rather stay here. On earth with J.

I like stars. Sometimes I watch them with her. When stars explode or die, new elements are forged, including the calcium that makes up our bones and the oxygen that we breathe. I’m really into bones.

A long time ago, my human got hurt. Before that, she was everywhere at once, writing stuff that went to millions of people all over the world. Then she was stifled and silent. Her knees forgot how to be knees and her hands forgot how to be hands.

Humans confuse me. Other living things don’t tell lies, start wars, screw up the planet or drive drunk. That is what happened to J. Someone got drunk, stole a truck, and crushed a parked car. J was in the car.

She relearned how to see, how to hear, how to walk, how to talk, how to read, how to write, how to operate a fork. Then she forgot and learned again. I think she did better when I stayed close. Plus it’s my favorite thing to do — staying close to her.

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