----- Original Message -----
From: Rol McAllister
To: Lynda Ronaldson
Sent: Monday, July 09, 2001 11:19 AM
Subject: Fw:
-------Original Message-------
From: Maureen and/or Gary Ross
Date: Monday, July 09, 2001 09:53:49 AM
To: Candace Dochstader; Carlene White; Charlie Murray and Brandy; Dave Faneuf;
Denise Montminy; Diana Robinson; Dr. Sue Tasillo; Dyan Cahill; Emily Shank Leos;
Erzsebet
Ivanyine; Fran and Mark Desmairas; Gary at Raytheon; Ian Billinghurst - Australia; Ian
Dunbar; Jan Hight (Newfies); Jeanne St. Hilaire; Jeri Zezula UNH; Joan Cunningham;
Kathy
DeLong Saints Mem.; Lois Tomlinson Antiochian; Mary Budge; Rol McAllister; Sue Schwabb
Vanguard Leos; Tone Mosby Norway Leos; Turid Rugaas
PHILOSOPHY OF A DOG!
Don't take this the wrong way, but for the longest time now, I have been trying
to
imitate my dog. Not his look, which is furry and chestnut brown. Not his walk, which,
as
with most dogs, can be more 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: "Treeor 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 tadah!
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
11 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 Tomorrow Land with a sack full of "E tickets". I
slouch and yawn again. The great indoors. 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 beach front 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 are going to have to shovel come summer, he
is
off the coming out of one obsession and into 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
land.
"Look at that!" ! he seems to say. "It goes up, it comes down! WOW"!
As I make a cup of coffee, he jumps up to watch. "Whatcha doin? Whatchadoin?
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! Oh what a feeling." 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 End
~ Author Unknown ~
~ Maureen and/or Gary Ross & the pack!
~ [EMAIL PROTECTED]
~ Before you can change your dog's or anyone's behavior, you have to change your
own!
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