Читать книгу Considerations on the Death of a Dog - Jean Grenier - Страница 10

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The dog’s suffering had surpassed whatever my emotions were able to bear. I had nothing left in reserve, I was running on empty. He was alive still, panting in a corner, his eyes half-closed. A short while ago, I was stunned to see him stand and walk toward me. I held his head as I stroked his nose with my free hand. He stood there for a long time, a very long time. I said nothing, and he remained motionless, his gaze directed at my own. There was nothing I could do for him. But he didn’t know this and I was tormented by the idea that he may have believed I possessed some unlimited power, a power whose effectiveness he had experienced in so many other circumstances.