Yesterday we went to see the puppy. She bit my hand and it bled. I sat on the ground, which turned out to be a disgusting idea, as the puppy made clear shortly into our visit, twice. I wanted to seem at ease with dogs, that I cared for dogs, that I was a natural. The trainer offered the boys chocolates and I let them take them without washing their hands. I was deep into my rôle.

All the way there and then all the way back and then all evening the boys battled each other and whined at me until I could not stand the sound of them. When John, towards the end of the evening, said he wouldn’t get in the bath because it was too slippery, I went into another room and stared out the window for a little while.

Then this morning I woke up and it was beautiful out and the boys were kind, so I called Tara and said we would take the dog.

Now we must name her. I had suggested Lu, for Lubitsch, but then lying in bed last night I decided it was a little overdetermined, Lu for Lubitsch, Lu for read, and then Lu-Bitch. Too much, although if the boys could agree on it I wouldn’t care. Henry likes Lu but thinks Lulu is horrible and John has agreed to Lu but will call her Lulu, and I don’t think I want a fight to start every time one of us calls the dog’s name. I don’t think that this is what I want. But I don’t know what I want, or why I want it. We’re getting a dog. We’re going to train her and raise her and spend sums of money on her care, and she will always be a dog and never be an adult person and will depend on me, when having people depend on me is something that sometimes I can’t stand. Do I want the dog because I want to change? Do I want the dog so that things will be different? Or do I want the dog merely because I want to do things and name things and extend my will?