> IMITATION IS THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY > > > > > Don't take this the wrong way, but for the longest time now, I've been > > > > trying to imitate my dog. Not his look, which is furry and black. Not > > > > his walk, which, as with most of a waddle. And not his tail. I don't > need > > > a tail. I have enough trouble buckling my pants as it is > > > Also, I can live without his bathroom habits, which can be summed up > > > this way: "Tree or bush? Tree or bush? Aw, how about right here on the > > > > grass." > > > > No, what I admire about my dog is his fascination with the simple > > > routine of life. Every day for him is like boarding the space shuttle. > For > > > example: In the morning, I tumble out of bed, grumble, yawn, open the > > > door, and TA-DA! There he is, the canine answer to Richard Simmons. > > > He is so worked up, he doesn't know which way to go, toward me or > > > away from me. So he does both. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" he seems > > > to pant. "It's morning, and I'm gonna eat!" > > > > Never mind that he has eaten every morning since he was > > > born. Or that he's had the same food every morning since he was born, > > > and that was 7 years ago. Never mind. He pulls me downstairs and waits > > > > breathlessly as I scoop yet another helping of boring brown nuggets > into > > > his bowl. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Food, food, food!" .... I yawn. > > > > > > Three minutes later, he is off the food thing and into a new > obsession: > > > going out. Again, he runs forward and backward. "I'm going out! I'm > > > going out! Is this great or what?" Never mind that going out has not > > > changed one bit since we've lived here. He is so thrilled by the > notion > > > of "exit" that he almost bites the doorknob off. He bolts into the > > > backyard as if heading for Tomorrowland with a sack full of "E" > tickets. > > >I slouch and yawn again.The great outdoors! > > > > > > Then comes the "bathroom" routine, which I already have described. > > > Humans deal with these functions begrudgingly. Not my dog. It's a real > > > > thrill for him. He scouts for the perfect spot as if looking for > > > beachfront real estate. "Tree or bush? Tree or bush?" And I don't have > > > > that many trees. Then, once his business is taken care of -- and I > make > > > a mental note where we're going to have to shovel come summer -- he is > > > > off the going out obsession and onto a new one: going back in. > > > > It doesn't matter than he was in just two minutes ago. "Things have > > > changed! Things have changed!" he seems to pant. "I gotta get in > there! > > > I gotta check it out! Hurry up, hurry up! When I open the door, he > bolts > > > in, races back and forth -- looking for space aliens, I suppose -- and > > > > when he doesn't find any, he isn't disappointed. Instead, he snarls at > > > > some ratty toy he's played with for months, throws it into the air > with > > > his teeth, and watches it and "Look at that!" he seems > > > to say. "It goes up, it comes down!" > > > > > > As I make a cup of coffee, he jumps up to watch. "Whatcha doing? > Whatcha > > > doing? Coffee, huh? That's amazing!" He then clamps onto my leg and > does > > > a dance that, were it the early '50s, I might call the "Hootchie Coo." > I am > > > not sure what he gets out of this --"Oh boy, a leg! Oh boy, a leg!" -- > but > > > he seems to be having a better time than many of the dates I've had. > > > When I disengage and disappear behind a door, he lies down outside and > > > > waits for me to come out again. If it is only 30 seconds later, he > will > > > still react as if I were a released hostage. > > > > > > The sunny side. Now, my dog does not work. He does not pay taxes. He > > > does not create anything new (unless you consider the bushes outside). > > > > But he also doesn't need clothes, doesn't covet cars or jewelry, and > doesn't > > > care about houses, as long as he can find a sunny spot on the floor > and > > > lie there for a few hours. Meanwhile, I am bored with my same routine. > > > > Getting up is a drag. I can't get excited about breakfast. And going > out > > > then coming back only makes me wonder how many flies I've let in. > > > > > > So I'm trying to imitate my dog. I'm trying to find wonder in the > > > everyday. After all, when you think about it, it is pretty remarkable > > > that you open your eyes each morning. And since every few hours you > get > > > to quench your hunger, well, that's a thrill, when you consider the > > > alternative. > > > > > > So while I can't match my dog's drool, I am trying to match his zeal. > > > Don't worry. If you come to visit, I will not clamp on your leg and do > > > > the Hootchie Coo. On the other hand, that sunny spot on the floor > looks > > > pretty tempting. > > > > > > > ***************************************************************** The information transmitted is intended solely for the individual or entity to which it is addressed and may contain confidential and/or privileged material. Any review, retransmission, dissemination or other use of or taking action in reliance upon this information by persons or entities other than the intended recipient is prohibited. If you have received this email in error please contact the sender and delete the material from any computer. ****************************************************************
