There’s a new puppy in Eric’s house: Freud. And this should be a good thing. It’s definitely a start… It’s definitely better. But as Eric’s visits to the Doctors keep reminding him, “better” doesn’t mean well.
After the last few years, the last few months, Eric has nothing left: nothing but the house in Miami, his memories, and now the puppy.
And Freud is only here, scampering and howling and messing, because Ziggy had to be put down. And Freud isn’t quite Ziggy.
And the house is only here because… and it needs to, it has to, sell… and it won’t quite sell.
And nobody and nothing’s Mitch.
Eric, surrounded by memories, flattened and churned up by Banks, Doctors, Real Estate Agents and Fantasies, grieving over the loss of his health, his lover, and the life he once had in the house he now can’t quite get rid of, keeps climbing towards the future, one uneven, unsteady step at a time. Still, it’s hard to know where he’s climbing to.
And though there’s a lot of healing to do, how to start?
Well… at least there’s the puppy. Freud isn’t Ziggy, but that’s okay. He makes Eric smile.
And the Puppy Howls is the story of being hit by everything modern American life can throw, and who and what comes next.