When I was an arborist for Crockett Tree Service we sometimes dumped the day's wood chips at the dump, backed up the big truck to the edge, raised the back and it all slid out down the hill. Sometime it seems I had been warned not to look around the site, home of the Katonah Animal Shelter. The road to the dump wound around a little and then the truck had to backed up and in, so I didn't look on the way in. This day was a Friday. On the way out I glanced to the right and saw maybe the most disturbing image ever, but there are others, a pile of dog and cat bodies that had just been gassed, eight feet high. The thing grows over time. It is gargantuan. It was about three pm. They had just cleaned out their ovens for the week. I'd never spoken this before this morning when I was telling my spouse, in order to explain what I am doing with all the ceramic bodies in my mind, piling them up. These will actually be photographed some time, with blanket shreds in between to prevent them from chipping. There is fox, bear, seal, hawk, coyote, horse. What animal has not been annihilated? From the start, for years, quadrupeds, glued back together, that either came apart in the making or in the glazing or firing, torn skins, beaded shino ridges, marred as it they were none, nameless. One called Boxcar Named Desire, to be exhibited this fall, hard to look at the faces; one called Apologia below. Some so large as to diminish their own perspective. All creation groans together toward its redemption. I don't think there is or ever has been one scientist who felt or grasped this pain.