If you were a dog

If you were a dog, would you want to be an outside dog or an inside dog?  A big dog or a little dog?  A dog with responsibilities or a pet without a care in the world?  I’m watching our two sleep the day away, and I’m just a teensy bit jealous.  Only a teensy bit.  I think they’re sleeping because they’re bored.  I’m not entertaining them.  (I’m working.  Clearly.)  I’m not sure I’d want to be a dog if it meant (as it must) giving up reading.  And talking.  Somebody asked me the other day if all this working from home is isolating.  I don’t feel particularly isolated.  I’m not talking as much as I would if I were in the office, but I don’t think I’m making up for it when John gets home.  (John may disagree.)  I don’t feel starved for human contact.  I talk to the dogs (although not as much as you might think), and I spend plenty of time emailing and calling work people for work stuff.  In fact, I think I spend too much time on that and not enough time on what I wanted to get done in the quiet of home.  Hey, if I turn into a dog, I won’t have to work. Unless I’m a working dog.  But working dogs always seem to enjoy their jobs, so maybe that would be okay.


  1. Melvin?

    Be a cat. Poop in a box, lay in the sunshine, ruin some furniture. You could be completely useless, and yet, somehow, loved and cared for. Strange.
    I see you talk to your dogs, but do you ever sing to them? Like, maybe, when they’re following you around and begging for your breakfast:
    My banana, my banana … my banana …

  2. Melvin?

    Totally fine. It’s become part of our lexicon now. “Yeah? Yeah? The maple kind, yeah?”
    “Covered it with what?”
    🙂 Love, love, love it.

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