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From Chapter Sixteen - Z
His accident and its aftermath convinced us, as nothing else
quite had, that Como was simply wired in a particular way
that was never going to change. And just as we might have
done with a cranky in-law who was never satisfied with the
way his bagel was toasted, a nosy neighbor who was always
dropping in at the most inconvenient times, or a child who
worshiped ice skating to the exclusion of anything else, we
got used to it. We got used to Como's fixations and eccentricities,
his flair for drama and innate ability to entertain us, his
egg-beater hair-do when he got up from a nap and his habit
of vaulting across the bare floor between the living room
and dining room rugs, as if he were still clearing those gates
we'd once futilely placed to contain him. We got used to his
unpredictable quirks on walks that could be devoted entirely
to minute inspection of each and every telephone pole on the
block (while ignoring all people and dogs he encountered)
or might play out instead as complex, inscrutable social rituals
of snubbing anyone who was friendly to him and hopefully wagging
his tail at those who walked on by. We didn't pretend to understand
a lot of what he did, but we got used to it.
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From Chapter Sixteen - Z
It was a little baffling and at times pretty ridiculous,
but it was also undeniably true: The scraggly, scared terrier
we'd found in a shelter cage one afternoon had made us tune
in more closely - to him, to each other, to the lurching ride
of our life together.
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