Topics | Companion Animals | The Sun Magazine #3

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Companion Animals

The Dog-Eared Page

Digging Up The Roots

In this desecrated area, the women searching for firewood must dig up the roots of the trees they have long since cut down to make space for crops.

By Jane Goodall July 2020
One Nation, Indivisible

July 2020

Featuring Michael Pollan, Craig Childs, John Elder, and more.

July 2020
Poetry

Inheritance

My great-aunt was not the type of lady to smoke / out on the porch. No, she lit up in her living room, and up / and down the stairs, and in her bedroom on hot / Mississippi nights with the windows thrown open.

By Shuly Xóchitl Cawood May 2020
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Home Range

The mare saw two of her herdmates die when she was captured. One, an exhausted gray stallion, fell and broke his neck in the trailer; the other, a chestnut foal, only weeks old, was chased until its leg fractured, and it had to be euthanized. That was the first this mare knew of our kind. Of our kindness.

By Chera Hammons April 2020
Fiction

Man And Mouse

I will tell you this: If there is a God, he does not live in a slaughterhouse. That much I know. I hope the God everyone argues over so viciously is not looking out of those dead, glazed pupils, asking us to see him finally.

By Ann Wuehler April 2020
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Cat Years

He stops short, horrified that he has interrupted his employer during an emotional moment. Bishop quickly wipes away her tears and says, in Portuguese, Don’t worry, José. I’m only crying in English.

By Christine Marshall January 2020
Fiction

Waiting For The Coywolf

I’ve read about a new creature called a “coywolf” — the offspring of a coyote and a timber wolf. That must have been what I saw. Waiting for it to reappear gives me something to do.

By Devin Murphy January 2020
Quotations

Sunbeams

An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language.

Martin Buber

January 2020
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Pistol In A Drawer

Ever since I first slipped it into my duffel bag those many years ago, I have guarded the pistol jealously, like a miser his coin. The more cause someone might have to take the pistol from me, the more care I have taken to conceal it.

By Charlie Geer December 2019
Fiction

Goodbye, Sugar Land

I was still exploring my power to hurt others and was continually surprised by how potent a single sentence could be. I watched my mother’s face waver and then crack open.

By Becky Mandelbaum October 2019