text: I stare into the bottom of the glass and contemplate the last swallow. Absentmindedly, I swirl the wet tumbler in lazy circles over the bar. If I drain the glass, the question will be whether to order another or leave. And go where? Yes, unlike some, I do have a home with a roof, a bed, hot and cold running water. And echoes. Echoes of someone to come home to, of cold feet to warm, of comfort food to eat, of secrets, jokes, hugs and laughs shared. Of medication and nausea, of pain and helplessness, of fake smiles and false bravery, of promises that could not be kept, of plans that were never made, of time that ran out. With a sigh, I reach into my pocket and place a twenty on the bar. "G'night." Jake barely looks up from his track sheet, just a nod in acknowledgement. I shrug into my coat and huddle against the biting cold wind that comes up the avenue. About an hour later I call my sister. "Hey. Yeah, I'm good. No, really. I'm okay. Didn't wake you, did I? Good. Thanks for lying. No, I just got in a little while ago. Right, Jakes'. Nah, it was quiet. Just about as quiet as here. So, ... Yeah, I know... Actually. How can you tell when a dog goes into labor?" I hold the phone away from my ear and grin. When was the last time I grinned? "Sh. I think the neighbors heard you. Well, you know that alley behind Jakes?... Yes, the one off Race. Anyway, I thought I heard something... I know. But it sounded like a dog. You know that high-pitched nasal sound?... Exactly! Well, it was. I guess you could call it a small Benji -type. You know, scruffy... Well, sort of brown, dirty. Mostly. No. I think it's bigger than one of those Mexican things. It has one ear that stands up and one that flops over. I guess you could say it's cute. Someone had tied it to the dumpster. Can you believe that? Yeah, of course, I thought about her. God! In the middle of one of her coughing attacks she'd say she wanted one. Shit! Would make me so mad! As if she wasn't dying fast enough. You know what she'd say, right? Living went too fast and dying took too long... ... Sorry." I cough and swallow. " ... Sorry... Yes, of course, I untied it. I'm still human, sis. Geez! Sorry, you're right. You're right. Sure, it walked right with me. You know that all-night place on the corner here, right? With that old Vietnamese woman? ... Yeah, the grandma. I asked her about flea shampoo. She said, and I quote: "no fleas, babies." I don't know. I guess she saw the belly. Anyway, she sold me two cans of... wait a sec." I walk to the counter and give my sister the name of the dog food. "So, that's okay then? The old lady said, "Good stuff, good stuff." ... Ha. I know, right? Like that time, we tried to buy some dope, remember? We probably paid for oregano or sage, or something... So, the little thing ate half a can... No, no. A spoonful at a time... Right. And I gave it a bath... No, in the dishpan. Mostly just warm water. There isn't much to her, you know. Once all the dirt was gone. Just a big belly. How big? Well, she couldn't get up the stairs. She kept getting stuck... Well, yeah, her legs are short. But it seemed to hurt when she'd hit it. Yes, sis. I carried it upstairs. Wait! ... Oh, man! ... This is awesome! ...." Why am I whispering? I guess she doesn't need any help ... No, it's half out ... Kinda dark and slimy. Sort of like a wet blood sausage. Oof! There it is. Wait! She's eating it! ... Oh. Really? ... Why? Oh. How do they know to do that? And why don't people know that? No, I mean why do women have to have classes and go in hospital and get shots and all that? Sure, right ... Yeah. Hurrah for evolution. No. She's licking it now ... Go little fellow ... Go! Go! ... Go! ... Come on! ... There. He found a nipple. Will she have milk? You think she'll have more? Wait. There's someone at my door. Who would ...? Oh, Hi, sis. Where is she? Under the table. Why did you set her up there? She was still a little damp. Figured she needed the warmth from the radiator. Hey sweetheart ... Right, absolutely. My bad ... You better check, bro. Check what? Reach in there and see if there are any more pups. You want me to ... No way! Okay, we'll just sit here and wait, then. Alright. You want a drink? No, I don't want a drink. I want you to check. You want me to fist a little thing like that? Oh man! One finger would do it. Is that an eye roll? Let me ask you, sis. When you were having Maryanne, did you want someone to stick a finger up your ... Hm? -----. Right. You want that drink now? Yeah, sure. Something bumps my leg . Hey, little one. What can I get you? ... Oh ... Okay Some minutes later. I'm thinking of moving. Ground floor, walk-out. Wadda ya think? Sure. Good idea. Then you can get a Stairmaster. One of those things you hang clothes on? No, thank you. Can you train a dog to use a litter box? No. Bummer. What's she doing? Having babies. Cool. You guys want a puppy? We'll see. Yeah, that's parent talk for no, right? Hm mm. In that case, when are you bringing Maryanne over, huh? Not until you've found homes for these. Coward. Bully! .... How are you, really? I was at Jakes'. What does that tell you, hm? Even he didn't want to talk to me anymore. So, ... So, the Universe put her out there for you. Yeah, right. The Univers has nothing better to do. It saw me sitting on a barstool and said that guy looks like he could use a pup or three. ... It's just ... What? It's just a year too late, you know? Yeah. Maya would have been all over it, I know. She would have dressed it up in cute outfits. Yeah, I can see that. Right ... hm. I cough. Damn! I miss her. Yeah, I know. And you always will. Helpful, sis! And so optimistic. No. Realistic. You know you'll never forget her, and you shouldn't. So, just live with the hole in my life? Hm mm. That hole will be there anyway, right? Don't be afraid to look at it. Plant flowers around it. Make it more palatable. Flowers? Why am I fighting this? Figurative flowers, brother, dear." Another eye roll. " Like this dog. Plant the dog in the hole? Grr! Don't be dense! Think about it. Maybe she didn't come a year too late. Maybe she's here right on time. Maybe you are ready to think about, care about something again. The dog in place of Maya? Could I? Hm, maybe. Sure. Just do me one favor. What? Don't call it Maya. Right. Point taken. How about Mini? Mini? You know, Mini Benji? Cute! Yes. Now she's yours. What do you mean, she's mine? Mild panic. Only mild? Interesting. You named her. Mini is now your pet. You're her human. It's okay to keep on living, brother. Bring the lot to the clinic next week, I'll make sure they get checked over, okay? Now I'm going home and let Marc warm up my toes. Happy New Year. Happy New Year, sis. I stare into the bottom of my glass. Thoughtfully, I swirl the wet tumbler over the tabletop. Under the table, Mini and her two pups are huddled together on Maya's old afghan, snoozing near the radiator. Can I move on? Is that what people do? Wouldn't that be disloyal? Maya would have loved Mini, coughing and gasping for every breath, while hugging it. Do I have anything left to give or did I bury myself along with her? Am I ready to take care of something again? What if I fail? This little dog has been failed enough. Can I give her what she needs? Do I even know what she needs? How will I know? I guess I'll be googling tomorrow. "What is it Mini? Are you a proud mamma? You did a really good job, little girl. Oh, you want another bite? Sure. Here you go. Tomorrow we'll see if we can find a winter coat for you, okay?" Happy new year, Mini. And yeah, maybe happy new year me, too.