I just finished reading what for most of the book seemed like the worst possible story I could be reading right now and yet I have to say it is a really good book. The culprit (if I may be so bold as to title it) is The Pickup by Nadine Gordimer. The emotions of the characters in the book feel very real, are understandable, well drawn. At times the style was overly poetic, hard to follow, but that is common in contemporary writing. (Is poetry supposed to be obscure?) The bad part for me is that it is about a young woman who is alienated from her family, who finds new connections by leaving home, finding a new home far from home, finding a new family. And this is bad for me because I live so far from my daughter and my son is about to leave Halifax for Montreal and I will have no family here and I don’t like this, any of it. Yesterday as I was walking towards my car I could imagine myself picking up dog poop again. It has been three years since Katie died. At this time of year. And it took several months to pick up all the poop that was under the snow from the winter. So maybe it is (almost) time for another dog. A dog can be family but a dog is not a person.