“Wild creatures' eyes, the colonel said,
Are innocent and fathomless
And when I look at them I see
That they are not aware of me
And oh I find and oh I bless
A comfort in this emptiness
They only see me when they want
To pounce upon me at the hunt;
But in the tame variety
There couches an anxiety
As if they yearned, yet knew not what
They yearned for, nor they yearned for not.
And so my dog would look at me
And it was pitiful to see
Such love and such dependency.
The human heart is not at ease
With animals that look like these.”