August 10, 2008 – Stormy, muggy. We went to see Marion today, and for the first time since we’ve known her, she was in bed, where she had been all day. She said she had a long night, and wasn’t hungry. She did eat some chicken – some of which she gave to Izzy – and some strawberry shortcake, which she tried to give him.
  Izzy seemed restless, anxious perhaps, then settled down. “Will you love me?” she asked him. “I wouldn’t let anyone harm you.” We brought her a quilt, because she gets cold sometimes, and she told  us stories about her family, and her life on her farm, with more than 100 cows, and her children and her husband Horace.
  Marion looked tired, drawn. She told Izzy the night and day had been a struggle. I could see that. In hospice work – Marion is not enrolled in hospice, she is in the same facility as some hospice patients we visit – you learn to meet the patient where they are, not necessarily where you want or think they ought to be, and so I know now to ask about the things Marion can talk easily about. Her children, her farm, her love of dogs and Izzy. There are some stories she loves to tell, and I like to ask her about them, as it seems to calm her, and bring her into the moment. Despite her illness, Marion always seems to know where she is, who is there, and what is happening.
  When Izzy hopped onto her bed, she looked up at me, and said, “something’s wrong. Izzy is sad. He’s not comfortable. What is wrong.”
  I told her I thought perhaps that Izzy was not comfortable with his position on the bed, and got him off, then back on, the bed. Marion still thought Izzy was uneasy, not himself. She finished her strawberry shortcake, and took at look at the book I brought her, “Dog Days,” which had Izzy on the cover, along with my name. Marion does not, I think, know my name, or mentioned it.
  Marion looked at it a long time, as if trying to memorize it, and then put it by her bedside. When we left, she said she was grateful for the visits, and would try and have a present for us when we returned.
  As I left the room, I looked back for awhile, and I saw Marion frowning in concentration, hard at work, and then I heard what she was saying: “Jon Katz.”