10 Reasons why you'll never be half the person your dog is
By mysticcharoite, Jun 3 2016 06:41PM
Dogs are really, really different to people. When I say different, of course I mean better and when I say people, I include myself because although I live with dogs, their innate betterness just hasn’t managed to rub off on me yet.
Aside from a monumentally crappy day at work, the dogs and I probably share many of the same gripes. After all, it’s been raining pretty much constantly for about three million days in their world too and they are supposed to be outside in their dog run while I’m at the office (although I relented and gave them a sofa day today). It’s disappointingly warm for the time of year. The forest isn’t on their door step either and they too have to negotiate the neck breaking mud slide that the garden has turned into and also aqua-plane across the kitchen floor because Mojo opened the French windows today and didn’t close them behind her. I’m sure they too realise there’s absolutely no point mopping the living room until it actually stops raining outside, however hideous it looks. Like me, some of my dogs happen to be getting on a bit in years. Some of them are downright ancient. I’m sure they ache, a lot.
Unlike me, they don’t bore the world with the state of their knees, however, and just get on with it. They are brave, they are fierce with themselves and they don’t worry about how they’re going to feel the next day. Their tea was a bit late as well (mostly because of the monumentally crappy day at work) but they weren’t shouty, stressy, screechy and downright unpleasant to be around come 6pm; and they certainly didn’t cry when Daisy pinched the butter and licked it and Tigerlily peed on the living room floor (probably because in its current state it’s fairly hard to tell it from the garden).
Nope, they waved their tails like happy banners as usual, bounced around, grinned and greeted me like I was a normal person who they were delighted to see. Not once did they tell me to bog off and come back when I was in a better mood. Daisy didn’t even hold me shouting at her against me. “You left the butter there and I was hungry,” she yodelled gently by way of explanation but there was no real reproach in the tone.
So, your bad moods are water off a dog’s back. They don’t comment about your resting bitch face; they just work harder to make you smile.
That’s number one, but what are the other ways dogs are clearly our superiors?
* Dogs don’t care about material stuff. In fact, if you’re not careful, they’ll show you how little they care about material stuff by cheerfully wrecking it. They just want you, your time and your attention. How cool is that?
* They ask for very little and are very happy with what they get.
* They are always happy to see you and make sure you absolutely know it; even when you’ve just popped to the toilet.
* They like your belly.
* They don’t judge.
* They wake up instantly and in the best mood ever.
* They don’t make excuses. After a less than spectacular run, you never hear a dog complaining about unicorns jumping out of the trees. In fact, to a dog, is a run ever anything less than spectacular?
* If they had sleeves, they would wear their hearts on them. Whose dog ever tried to play it cool?
* They don’t get the concept of tomorrow, next week, next season. Life is what’s happening now, right?
* They are going to break your heart in the end, of course, but right up until then they will make you smile, every time you look at them.
Maybe if people knew how little it takes to make you smile they’d do it more often too. So on a dark, misty and miserable night like this, I remain in awe of my dogs and think it’s time some of that innate better-ness started rubbing off.