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The Light in August

Lately, Abbie was having trouble relating to other dogs.  The summer had been socially quite insane with pigeon roasts, late night water keg bashes, and multiple dinner and cocktail (aka butt sniffing) parties.   She’d enjoyed some amazing meals – especially the grilled mackerel with blueberry sauce the gay Doberman had served at his wedding breakfast – and an especially thrilling encounter with a flock of wild turkeys who’d surprised her with their vast knowledge of Darwin’s journals.      The refreshingly recalcitrant Poodle, the crazy mixed Lab, the Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen with the sad smile -  she respected them all, had wallowed in their company, but now they just bored her.    As the shedding season ended, they whined about the imminent end of the summer.    She was ready to go back home to the family with whom she lived,  the comfort of her brown fake fur dog bed, the dull but familiar old kibble in the morning and again in the evening, the pats, the barking frenzies at the white cat.  Before leaving, she had to have one last romp, one last glorious leap over the salty waves.  Although she  knew she might regret leaving the pack and this tail end of summer behind, she  looked forward to lying on the porch in the light in August with sweet nostalgia  for the wild and sultry nights singing in her beating heart.

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A Studio Interview

In Anna Dibble's studio: Kimberly Wang of Eardog Productions
Studio shots, & Pepper, Radar and Theo

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Dogs, cats, and other animals as metaphors for our nonsensical human condition.
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