Then Blue had eaten the slice of turkey (though of course he didn’t ‘eat it’ so much as devour it, or cause it to disappear), and I was standing in the man’s garage with the man and with Bluey and was introducing myself to the man, and was talking to him about various topics, I can’t remember what, the conversation moved so quickly at first from one thing to the next. A woman who lived in a house across the street was also present, with a little brown-furred labradoodle who seemed to be comfortable with Bluey and who the woman referred to as Cinnabon. At first the woman was holding Cinnabon in her arms, but as soon as Bluey and I came up the driveway she put Cinnabon on the floor of the garage so that he could wag his tail freely and so that Bluey and he could greet one another the way that dogs do, with their noses.