Stray dog bites the fleas & barks at the buzzard voice with no decision but to wait for the next gesture. Jester can't see why he's lost the leash but the owner is found better now -- much more tamed for an eternal suffering; it's no longer a frothing mouth full of the doomsday within. Barks at the bees, and they shine their stingers; they are karmic bullets of love from a sensitive ghost with no reserve. reserve. He is not there. you put him under the sink , in the disinfectant bucket; you can't cure his rocket fuel habits, but you can pretend he isn't there.

The tick behind your ear isn't going to bring you happiness.