Popcorn doesn't hear me when I come home anymore... I often find him sleeping on his peach blanket which lives on the black couch that Sam left here. I take off my coat and turn on the stove for tea. After a few minutes of nosing through the mail, I kill the whistle and I stand over the sleeping dog. It is alarming how long it takes for him to realize that I am there. His surprise is genuine, but forgiving. I sit down on a small corner of the couch to drink my tea. Popcorn stretches.