I’m a vivid dreamer when I sleep at night. Occasionally, I dream of dogs I used to own. We had a lot in common. Usually we ate out of bowls, loved getting our backs scratched, and liked to play anytime, anywhere. Always happy… Wagging our tales.
Protective of our families and territories. Never said “No” to a treat. Don’t like vacuum cleaners and sometimes we drool. I love my critters. I’m just a little jealous of them, too. If I could be reincarnated, I would like to come back as a chocolate Labrador, but not a homeless one. Instead, an uptown Fifth Avenue dog, pampered, groomed, and fed… a lot.
My critters always missed me when I was gone. Not one time did they not jump into my arms when I opened the door. They never questioned where I’ve been, who I was with, or what I was doing. Trusting and loyal. Always.
I can’t say that about ex-wives or girlfriends. And I can prove it about most women today. All you have to do is lock your partner and your dog in the trunk of your car and an hour later open the trunk and you’ll see who is happy to see you.
I know they are animals, but who are we to judge them? They aren’t opinionated. No politics. A simple pecking order is in place and they remain peaceful creatures. That is, until we train them otherwise. Maybe that’s the one and only reason they remain man’s best friend.