Pawscar Wilde
“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
From the Chaise Longue
The archive — essays and observations, long thoughts and short ones. Some arrived slowly, turned over for days before landing. Others were finished before looking up. Both are correct. All of it belongs to the Pawscar Wilde series.
A Dog Eats Broccoli. The World Breaks Slightly.
Gus ate broccoli. With enthusiasm. Actual enthusiasm for a vegetable that exists primarily to punish children and I… — read more
A Dog of Discriminating, Inexplicable Taste
Gus consumed an entire broccoli floret last evening with what I can only describe as genuine enthusiasm. This from the… — read more
The Morning After
The house carries last night in its floorboards — the ghost of music, laughter that settled into the walls around one… — read more
The Silence Keeps Inconvenient Hours
The house holds yesterday’s laughter in its corners, but something sits wrong in the silence. The wool rug feels… — read more
The Quiet Art of Staying Put
The house still holds last night’s laughter in its corners. Mom reached for something from the medicine cabinet at dawn… — read more
The Arithmetic of Kibble and Hangovers
The camera found me before I found my composure, but some moments demand stillness over preparation. Late breakfast… — read more
The arithmetic of anticipation
The kitchen carries news that arrives hours before the evening delivers its promise. Bone broth simmers at 14:02 on a… — read more
The Slow Architecture of Anticipation
The entire house has reorganized itself around this smell, marrow and time conspiring in the slow cooker, drawing us all… — read more
Mathematics of Marrow: A Friday Calculation
The kitchen holds promises of marrow and time. Friday afternoon carries its own mathematics. Bone broth simmering means… — read more
On the Hierarchy of Pressing Domestic Matters
The kitchen smells like bone broth and someone has left the cookie jar slightly ajar. I have identified the priorities… — read more
Wednesday’s Bone: A Temporal Crisis for Dogs
The freezer opens and the smell reaches me before I can see what’s happening. Frozen bone on a Wednesday. This breaks… — read more
The Return of the Cookie Jar
The cookie jar vanished on Tuesday morning. Not stolen — I would have known. Not moved to another room — I had checked… — read more