Puppy

... Josh had said, such nostalgia in his voice, "Mom, remember when Goochie was a puppy?" Which was when Abbie had burst into tears, because, being only five, she had no memory of Goochie as a puppy. --From George Saunders' "Puppy"

After the first page, I was at a loss of knowing what was happening. I was reading every word, knew what each word meant, but when those words are sprawled with narration--with all-over-the-place, hilarious narration with "ha ha ha" and "ho HO"s--I had no idea what they became. So I don't know why I didn't stop reading. I don't know why I kept turning the pages. Perhaps it was because once in a while I would come to a part where I understood wholeheartedly what it all meant, like the passage above. Or below.

Marie stepped to the window and, anthropologically pulling the blind aside, was shocked, so shocked that she dropped the blind and shook her head, as if trying to wake herself, shocked to see a young boy, just a few years younger than Josh, harnessed and chained to a tree, via some sort of doohickey by which--she pulled the blind back again, sure she could not have seen what she thought she had--(Saunders, 265)

So much childish suspense. Like I just dropped the blind.