Monday, November 14, 2011
The Depressed Friend
The Dogtor, a man of rational ideas and a fan of word economy, will occasionally surprise me with whimsy.
Me: How is Djuna?
Dogtor: Our depressed friend?
Me: What you mean "our depressed friend?"
Dogtor: Well - look at it this way. She doesn't leave the coop. She sleeps all day and eats in bed.
Me: She doesn't like the cold.
Dogtor: It's gross to eat in bed.
Dogtor: Sometimes I toss her out of the coop and onto a goat.
This is the Dogtor's cure for depression: have someone rip you out of bed and throw you on a goat. Works every time.
Or not at all. Djuna hasn't moved from her coop in days (sort of like her namesake, stewing in a little apartment in Patchin Place in the Village). We used to think she was eggbound when she did this, but she's just a little broody hen who may be writing dark poetry on the walls of the coop when no one is watching.
See photo: Depressed friend does not like flash!