I look at Coco and think about death.
Little white hairs have started to mingle with the brown fur under her eyes.
I think about water, how me and this dog sitting on my lap are both made of water.
I feel the bones in her legs, I watch her eyes, I see the muscles in her neck.
I think about how we are full of water from everywhere, uncountable drops that form rivers oceans and lives condensing into steam and falling over and over again, becoming my sweat, my tears, my urine, oxidizing my skin into new wrinkles over the next 75 years.
I think about how our lives are just a different kind of tide, robots made of sacks of bone and water. Coco licks my face. I hold her face in my hands and stare into her eyes.
A green sea, My eyes are green too.
A tear runs down my cheek and she licks it off.