So it's been a few weeks now since I've had to rely on oxygen from a machine. I have to wear one of those nose-things you see people wearing in hospitals. Mine is attached to a long tube so I can walk around the house, dragging the long cord around everywhere with me, like a I am a dog on a leash. I trip my family members with it. I don't always need it, because sometimes I sit around without it. But if I walk upstairs, for example, I have to stop and sit on the top stoop and pant like a dog. It would be so nice to be able to just run out of the house and get in the car and drive away. I guess that's how Emma Dog felt when she ran out the door like a stallion grey hound around the neighborhood and we would just have to wait for her to eventually run back home, sometimes a few hours later, or because someone else found her and brought her back. So me and Emma share a certain affinity right now. We're both on leashes when we don't want to be, we're housebound, we desire to run fast as the wind without stopping. How much longer I will be living this way is hard to say, really. But let's hope not for too much longer. Emma, give me an Emma-huuuug.