Saturday, May 18, 2013
Life of a dog
As my Fathers old dog lay outside in his dog house, heat lamp resting on his old bones and stiffening muscles, his favorite toy on his paws, with a dish of milk laying next to him I thought how short their life is with us on this world, a mere dozen years or there about, what would I do if I was dog? From birth they come out and the first thing they do is start to sniff around, they tumble and look for some warmth, their moms gentle nudge, and her warm body to lay against. As their eyes open they begin to explore, sniffing around with their fellow pups, wrestling, building up muscle, trying to be the first to that warm milk in their mothers tit. They grow a bit more, now they can run, tackle each other, play and nibble on moms ears with sharp teeth, making her yip and nip back at them, as they run off, growling and talking to their fellow pups. Soon mom has enough and shows them how to eat on their own and they do, growling and wrestling for their place at the dish, they begin to sniff around more, taking in the aroma of the earth that only a dogs nose can find. Soon they find a master, they get their ears scratched, belly, and chase a toy, soon they think the slipper is a toy, get whipped, run, and have fun with it howling with laughter to the next dog that passes by who says in reply "yea, I did that too" Soon they hang out with their master, going for their first ride, with wide eyed wonder they put their head out the window and wow does the entire world come to them, in every mile are tens of thousands of different smells, at first they look about, but soon their eyes are closed just taking it all in, loving the easy way to explore. They get to nap in the yard, basking in the sun, their "master" will bring them food, and carry a scooper to clean up after the them, sometimes, they get a treat, all for messing up the yard and just being there. Eventually they return the favor, sitting nobly on their sick masters feat as he is sick, keeping them warm as only they can do, watching carefully over them. Later their time comes near, they spend more time hanging out in the house, lounging here or there, now making shorter trips, the yard itself being an adventure, the alley a distant memory trip away. Then their time comes and the joy they brought to a family is left and tears of sorrow fall. How can someone not envy such a life? They bring everything to the table with that big heart of theirs, always happy, only asking for a meal, water and a place to lay. And the best part about it, in their short time here they make the most of it and they do it the way most humans do not, with a happy heart.