Whilst laying under the dining room table today, petting Ruby (who claimed the spot as her sanctuary when she was just a puppy), I discovered something:
I actually remember doing the deed. I think I was old enough to know better, but also old enough to have developed my still-present obsession with putting my mark in public (or semi-public) places. No, I haven’t relieved myself in the middle of a square in Madrid like my middle school Spanish teacher (who claimed that everybody does it. I was dubious even then). But this blog, for example, gives me a sense of permanence. My name is in the public record. It’s in Google. And even if no one ever reads it or cares, I’ll still know it’s there.
Well played, ten-year-old Holly.