I don’t just tell Daisy to stay. I insist. Stay! I instruct her, watching for her muscles to twitch. Stay! Now Daisy is the kind of dog who stays insofar as she knows a treat is coming. I watch her draw back against her own excitement, her little body held in ripples of contradiction. There we have it, I observe, existence and insistence bundled up together. I’m not so sure about that, replies Daisy. (I let her saunter towards me for this conversation.) While you might see me as existing, she explains, it seems to be you that is insisting. I suppose that’s right, I say. And whereas it’s me that you’d like to stay, says Daisy, it’s really you that has not moved. I find that I have to agree with that. But I want to exist like you! I say at last. You are trying too hard, says Daisy.