Daisy on quotation

Daisy watches me draw quotation marks in the air. ‘You that way – we this way,’ I say. She is watching my fingers. They’re quote marks, I explain. I know what they are, she says, you are quoting yourself. Well, not myself, I say. Who then? asks Daisy. I tell her that I am quoting from a play. Where is the play? asks Daisy. I look at the arm outstretched to the right and the other outstretched to the left and I understand that what Daisy sees between my hands is me. For a moment, I am very unsettled by the idea that I have put myself into quotes. Don’t worry about it, says Daisy, laying her head down between her paws. It can happen to anyone.

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