I have acquired a watchdog. I call him Frank after an extremely punctual former acquaintance. All day, Frank sits at my feet and ticks.
Frank was designed by a famous German clockmaker, but he was birthed by a bitch. He illustrates to us what it means to be alive and also a machine.
I love Frank. He shits, eats, sleeps, and wags at perfectly regular intervals - something I can only aspire to. Frank is never late, although due to his good fortune, Frank belongs to a species that never set out to regulate the fourth dimension. Dog time has no rules, just food and shits and sleeps and wags.
“Frank,” I say to Frank, frankly. “Frank, you’re the only dog I know with four legs and two hands!”
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Ruby Rorty is a writer and researcher in Chicago, IL. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in hex literary, Gone Lawn, and EcoTheo, among others, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, as well as the Best of the Net and Best Microfiction anthologies.