Sweethearts, all of you, thank you so much for your answers to my question. Not least because I didn’t expect any [answers].
First prize in category of actually understanding it goes to John and Russell Crowe. United in some piss up.
First prize in category of intellectual and philosophical substance goes to Ramana. Freedom. Yes, Ramana. Freedom. And not having to ask for it. Dreamy.
The rest of you may go home with a consolation prize, lick your wounds and come back for more later.
Why? Because you answered, varyingly, with ‘true friendship’ (yes, Old Foss, the holy grail, one of the biggest gifts to bestow and be bestowed with by good fortune), ‘love and affection’ (Nick, Magpie). Whilst your answers touching there is a tiny flaw considering my original question: Who we feel love and affection for (and vice versa) is out of our hands. No one can ask for an emotion.
Unless you are a dog. Dogs are good that way. The dog is not yours. You don’t even like it. Yet they have a way of looking at you (asking for it) you give in. Ok, then. I’ll stroke you (hope you haven’t got any fleas – for some reason dog and cat fleas like me, an affection not reciprocated), I’ll give you a bone. Anything else? Right. Excellent. Let’s go for a walk. Anything for a bit of peace and quiet. Just don’t lick me out of sheer gratitude. Or I’ll set the cat on you.
If I told you which thought brought on yesterday’s question you’d pity me (I’d rather you didn’t) or bury me under an avalanche of … Which is very sweet of all of you. But please don’t trouble yourselves.
Hugs and hisses,