In 1992, a traffic patrol in Tacoma, Washington State, saw a car travelling at 20 with something apparently dangling from the door. Close inspection revealed this to be a puffing basset hound called Tattoo, caught by his lead in the door, with tiddly four inch legs, ‘picking them up and putting them down as fast as he could to keep up’Caught up in changes we don’t want,
padding along faster than is reasonable
towards an uncertain future for which we were never designed?
Do they mean us?