My Life As A Dog



Hey Gang!


So, I believe I have an unhealthy obsession with my dog.

Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs. I have all their albums. Even the b-sides but I am usually a “let me pet you a bit and then you go lick something” kind of guy. I know it makes me sound like a mean guy but I just like that space. My aunt has a dog and it is basically an appendage; some extension of your body. He will climb on your shoulders or be on your lap and lick you constantly. You almost want to sit him down and say, “Listen, I just need some space. It’s not you, it’s me.”

 Reminds me of an ex-girlfriend, actually.

I feel like I should really be afraid of dogs, too. My cousin and I were chased by two Rottweilers and a Doberman. I remember hearing them bark a few fenced-in yards over and we just laughed it off. No way could they jump three fences to get us. We thought that all the way up until they did. The look in those dog’s eyes as they bound over each fence was a look of hunger for my tiny chocolate flesh!


….and I still dislike Rottweilers. I know Cesar would say, “It’s not the breed, it’s the owner” but I mean the owner wasn’t licking his chops as he looked at me for dinner. Little give and a little take on that one, Mr. Dog Whisperer.

 I ran as hard as my 8-year-old legs could pump. My cousin almost got hit by a UPS truck as we took shelter on a random house’s porch. It was one of those instances where, when it’s over, you laugh and say, “That was insane!”

All that said I have become enamored with my mother’s dog, Sofie.

I have talked about how my life lately feels like a tornado tore through it and it was bugging me. I was frustrated and felt alienated from friends. I felt like my own home, my own life was a prison. Harsh but true. That feeling of being stuck in a hole but it is just deep enough for you to not be able to get out. Frustration.

I wrote my last blog a few days ago and came home from the coffee shop. I came in and laid down, facing upward and arms stretched wide. A few moments later I heard tiny footsteps coming my way and then a face that looked like a baby Wookie. She is a Shih Tzu and is fairly tiny. She has brown and white fur and huge glossy brown eyes. She came up and licked my face. Her tail wagged with vigor. It made me happy to be home.

I am a hair shy of 6’7” and my dog is maybe a foot long by 8 inches tall. So, yes, it is hilarious to see us play. I am sure it is embarrassing, but I don’t care. I usually get down on all four and crawl around on the floor. I bark at her and she barks back. We play with her toys but I like to get down on her level.

She is funny because she will sometimes be walking and then sit down and look off into the distance. She looks stoic, regal even. I often wonder what she could be thinking. What could she be thinking that made her stop, sit down and ponder.

“When does wood become wood and not part of a tree. Is a tree made of wood,” she contemplated.

I get so wrapped up in everything that is going the way it’s going; not wrong, just going. Whenever I play in the floor with Sofie, that stuff all kind of fades away. I know I sound like a crazy dog guy but for me that is what it’s about. We play like that and sometimes I lay in the floor and she lays next to me sprawled out, eating a chew bone. We just lay there. She snuggles up close to me and takes a nap and I try not to move, so as not to wake her.

I call her my shadow because everywhere I go she is right behind me. That day I came home I was so frustrated but then Sofie came and said “hi” and then went back to eating her chew bones and that’s when I realized something. This little entity doesn’t give a crap about what I have done or what straits, dire or not, I am in. She is only interested in one thing: being my friend.

I laughed when I said I would write a blog about a dog but when I think about it, this isn’t about Sofie being a cute little fluff ball, which she is.

It is hard for us to let go. Let go of everyday things or those that seethe. We become so worried about life and what others think. We worry about what happens next and we become so caught up.

We forget that life is so much bigger. Life is fun and beautiful and funny. There are so many things that we miss because we don’t want to see it. We, or at least I, can sometimes fall out of love with the many facets of life. It gets hard and turbulent and you want to go into your shell but don’t.

Don’t give up because dogs never do. They live to live. I think we have forgotten what that means.

I don’t mind those days when things go wrong because I come home and I get on the ground, play with some chew toys and live like a dog. Not looking behind me or in front of me. Just being in the moment.

Not a bad life if I do say so myself. Even if it is for only a short while.



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