I love the canine point of view. There is just something about writing about a species that is so incredibly close to us yet their ‘language’, such as it is, is vastly different. Furthermore, dogs experience so much more than we do when it comes to scent that their perceptions have to be rendered in that manner.
The first paragraph contains one of my favorite phrases to write. And yes, I have used it before. But it still works. "... when they came." It is obvious there has been some sort of a disaster. And we humans types are not doing so well. No. Not at all. But there is an opportunity out there. We just need to figure out how to seize it.
I really love how quickly and easily I was able to turn Susan into something utterly sinister. Beneath a cheerful, allegedly helpful and caring façade, there is a nasty drive to make every single person conform. Whether they like it or not.
With nothing to do but read, eat, and fool around, the narrator and her husband are at the ends of their tethers. They are older people—there aren’t going to be any children. So they are not going to repopulate the earth. The one break to the monotony comes in the form of something you and I both hate – automated telemarketer calls.
Last year, it was Terry Pratchett. But this year it was Gene Wilder. And now we have also learned Terry Jones of Monty Python is afflicted. Because this disease shows no mercy. As much as we love these entertainers (and Jones is a medieval studies scholar), Alzheimer's just plain does not care. But we do.