Some recent conversations about these dumb little animals that live in our house but don't do anything helpful like pay rent or cook dinner.
My partner and I were talking a walk today and we were having an interesting discussion about religion and how it informs people’s opinions. It digressed into fearing versus not fearing death. (Spoiler: I do not fear it since it just means I cease to be and will rot and life goes on, la la.) It’s one of the many reasons I love this man. Our walk-talks are pretty insightful and never boring. We went off a bit on a tangent…
Him: Wouldn’t it be a cool thing though, if we all did go to heaven after death? And it was just an eternal paradise?
Me: Yeah, that would be pretty cool, especially if you were reunited with loved ones who had died. <pause> What if all our dogs were there too? What if Crazy Dog is with us for ETERNITY?
Him: Yeah, but everyone would be happy there.
Me: Yeah, I guess that’s part of the “paradise” part, I suppose. But, can you imagine if it wasn’t? It would be us, running after him, warning people, “No, you can’t just pet him. He bites. Sorry!” And, “He only warms up after a long time.” FOREVER.
Him: <laughs>
Me: We would have to have an infinite supply of chicken treats so we could hand them out to every person he ever met so he would be nice to him. I’ve decided I don’t want to go to heaven anymore.
On our walks with the dogs we have to abide by some pretty strict rules now. You can see them here (it's worth the read).
And more of the adventure of the SCREAMING CORGI can be read here.
So, I am constantly ready to kick the corgi’s ass if she lets out any kind of noise at another dog or even just glares at one across the street. She is not allowed to even LOOK at them. Because LOOK is a slippery slope to SCREAM.
And, well, SCREAM a miserable place to be. Let’s be clear: for me. I think the corgi absolutely loves being in that mode.
The other night, my partner was observing that every time I finish correcting the corgi (correcting involves flipping her to her back, baring my teeth and growling at her, as well as gripping her neck scruff tightly), she just pops back up on her paws and moseys along like nothing happened. With confidence even.
Him: It seems like you correct that dog and the second you are done with it, she’s like, “I’m cool!” and just keeps going.
Me: It’s weird because she sometimes drops and flips to her back before I even touch her, and submits. And the second I back off, she pops back up. It’s like her brain says this: “I’m sorry!!! You win!!! <pops back up> BUT I’M STILL AWESOME.
It’s too bad I can’t bottle and sell that confidence, because holy shit, she has got a ton to spare.
Comments