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.
Me: Yeah.
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!

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