I do not live with a dog, but my cat grows old and older each day, keeps to my bed making it hers, and mostly does not come downstairs. She, like Doty's beloved Beau, is disappearing into something other than this.
As he writes, "Everything dies, because the world's only a constantly mutating mask for the deep, wild life of energy, veiling itself over and over as matter, taking shaping in order to express the dynamic nature of its character, plunging into matter and sailing up -- as if inside the belly of a vulture -- into energetic life again."
But it is hard to think of "dynamic nature" and "energetic life" when the weather outside closes me inside, day after day.
Please, sun, return soon.