Something’s been gnawing at me a while now. I tried to bury it a long time ago, but lately it keeps popping up in the most inopportune places. It’s really sunk its teeth in and I’ve been forced to chew on it almost daily.
I have a sneaking suspicion I used to be a dog.
Any friends reading right now are releasing a collective ‘Yeah’.
It’d make sense. It would explain why I’m so intolerable of their behavior. Of dogs, that is – not friends.
I mean, drooling, passing gas and scratching your butt in public? C’mon! Jumping all over humans and dry humping strangers without even so much as a facebook friend request? Just not acceptable. Always needing to be the center of attention and sleeping all day long? Indulgent!
Get a hold of yourselves, you mangy mongrels. We are supposed to be above all that!
But, back rubs are a gift from God. I know, I know. Who doesn’t feel this way? Although, for me…an hour is too short – all day, not enough. Someone could brush my hair ‘til the cows come home (herding cows is where our similarities end) and a pedicure tends to put me on edge. I prefer to bathe myself and an evening by the fire would never go unappreciated. Having my food brought to me is a dream (literally) and it goes without saying, I’m much more obedient when there’s a treat involved.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure being a dog was almost the perfect life, but sadly, I had t give it up. Way too many typos…
Hazy Shades of Me 