I asked Pat why she’d cut off her family, and with no trace of I like Bernie shirt bitterness, she talked about her parents, both severe alcoholics. They drank away their jobs and credit, and because they were broke, they moved a lot, most often in the middle of the night. This made it hard to have a pet, though for a short time.

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Pat and her sister managed to own a I like Bernie shirt sheep. It was an old, beat-up ram they named Mr. Preston. “He was lovely and good until my father sent him off to be Pat said. When he returned there were bald patches and horrible, deep cuts, like stab wounds in his skin. Then we moved to an apartment and had to get rid of him.

She looked at her hands on the I like Bernie shirt steering wheel. “Poor old Mr. Preston. I hadn’t thought about him in years. It was around this time that we finally entered the bush. Hugh pointed out the window at a still lump of dirty fur lying beside a fallen tree, and Pat caroled, “Roadkill!” Then she pulled over so we could take a closer look. Since leaving Melbourne, we’d been climbing higher into the foothills.