Thirty Days Of Julia: Day Twenty-Six

Your eyes are red, she said. What I mean is,
your pupils are a vivid shade of brown.
Like a dog's eyes. You know, like a spaniel.
Keep digging, I replied. She launched into
a breathless explanation, all blushes
and hesitation. All fluster and charm.
And I felt my own cheeks flush as she stared
into my face: used one finger to draw
small circles in the air, to describe rings
of darker pigment... But three weeks later,
my eyes were red for real. And if they were
those of a dog, then it was one who had
been beaten. My last trick was: roll over,
play dead. I knew she was a cat person.