Oliver, wild at times, almost ferrel, watches for a moment to enter the cat door of the recording studio on Lookout Farm in the Catskills. A look in his eyes and I see myself: afraid to trust people, almost desperate to connect, ridgid by past experiences. I love animals.Oliver bit me and drew blood. I worried he had rabies because he died soon after.
His bite was a gift: Don't always assume others want your love and attention or even that they need you. I'm so self-centered to think I'm needed and myself always comes back to bite me!
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