Sometimes it’s just about the ritual

At some point in her early puppyhood, Tilda got hold of an ice cube, and thought it was pretty great. We gave her one whenever we opened the freezer, and now she comes running whenever she hears us open the door. I toss the cube in the air and she leaps for it with the same glee and abandon shown by cartoon dogs who have stolen a length of sausage links from the butcher. Then she takes it into the living room and leaves it to melt on the carpet.

Commuting brings out the animal in me

When I get off the bus near my office, there are usually quite a few people waiting to get on. Sometimes there’s nowhere for me to step off to.

I’ve tried waiting for people to make a space and saying “Excuse me” and one time, “You’ve got to let people off the bus before you get on the bus” in a higher volume than generally used in conversation.

One day recently it happened again. I was tired and disoriented from jet lag and without conscious thought I basically “fanned out” like a cobra, raising my arms in a big windmilling arc over my head and back down.

It felt kind of insane while I was doing it, but no one batted an eye as they cleared a path for me.