I love this picture of Maizy, snatched today in one of the nano-seconds she’s actually still whilst not also being asleep. The near-palpable quivering intensity of focus in that gaze. The fact that under that utterly undisarming dishevellement of bristling fur there are undoubtedly fangs.
She is nothing if not ferocious. She hunts and kills, ferociously. She guards, ferociously. She loves, ferociously. Me. It was, after all, what she was acquired to do. She follows me around the house. When I sit to meditate and shut her out she curls with a thump against the door and wedges her nose next to the gap. I can hear the sound of her breathing from the other side of the room.
I need her ferocity, her tenacity more than usual at the moment, more than I can say and for reasons I’m hardly capable of explaining.
But, by a sleight of iTunesmancy, I can put forward the following:
I suggest a volume of ear-bleed-inducing intensity.