Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Who's A Good Girl?





Yes, I’m crazy about my wife and think my kids walk on water. Most of my friends excite and challenge me, and generally accept me for who I am, warts and all. But no one, ever, is as hopelessly devoted, or as ecstatically in love with me, or outright thrilled, to do whatever I want, together, anywhere, anytime, as this little mutt.

You may well have one of your own like this.

Chica studies me, stares at my face for clues. She alerts if I raise an eyebrow, and knows the sound of the lower right vegetable drawer in the fridge. That’s where I keep the cheap hot dogs. Dog treats. She usually begins staring at the outside door, ten minutes before Carla gets home from work, and hears me putting on jeans to go outside from two rooms away.

Let’s go somewhere fun! Everywhere is fun. Want to go for a ride, maybe take a hike down the trail at Moses Creek Preserve? Want to just kick back, have a lazy day and watch a show or play with your iPhone? I’ll lie on top of your chest and make sure your heart is beating properly. I like your breath. Want me to go to the grocery store with you? I’ll keep your seat warm. Do you want to march into a live volcano, a den of snakes, or even certain death? OK, great, I’m your girl! And at night, when you slip off and softly walk into the bedroom and slide under the sheets, I’ll hear the comforter move and I’ll be there for you, with you.

That’s our routine. Chica mysteriously hears me slip almost silently into bed and comes running, even out of her own deep dreams in the other room. She jumps up and tries to get close to my face to kiss me. I say: “No girl. Go down there” as I lift the comforter for her to crawl down under it and sleep at the foot of the bed. If I get up in the night, she happily shakes the covers off and runs into the bathroom with me, just to make sure I’m alright. In the morning, we get up together and share light conversation while I make coffee. She doesn’t care what the subject is as long as I’m happy with it. That’s the important thing.

Everything, 100%, all the time, 24-7. This dog is next to me, on me, or staring at me. If I look at the TV, she’s got her back to it, looking at me, always reading my body language like a skilled behaviorist. She often knows what I’m going to do before I know myself.

So bright, so alert and perceptive. Yet she doesn’t recognize her own reflection in a mirror or have any concept of the fact that someone built the chair we’re sitting in. No real concept of time, other than this time right now.

How can this odd, adoring little animal be so smart and so oblivious to many things that I think matter? Maybe I’m the one with stinkin thinkin. They don’t burden themselves with a lot of worries about stuff that never happens anyway, they just enjoy the moment. Idiot savants perhaps. I don’t know, but I’m jealous.

And actually, humans are the dumb ones anyway. We think we’re superior to all other life forms on this blue marble, but maybe we should take a look around at what a mess we make of it all, including our own environment. Even dogs don’t like to shit in their own yard. Humans act so smug and superior, like we’re the be all and end all. Years ago, we were amazed to find that animals are able to use tools. That was a major discovery back in the day, a big deal, but we now know that lots of them do. It’s like the standardized testing in schools. We only measure a very limited spectrum. But even at that, crows can unlock ten different puzzles they’ve never seen before to get a treat. They’re smarter than half of my Facebook friends, and I’m firmly in the wrong half of that crowd. We think it’s so cute and charming that a dog can do tricks. Roll over, stay, play dead, but they can do one hell of a lot more than that, know more than we do, and will probably survive the holocaust long after humans, the smart mammals, have wiped ourselves off the face of the Earth. We’ll be the ones playing dead, permanently.


Dogs will survive, evolve, and probably wind up making their own damn hot dog treats. Maybe a crow or two will help get the factory started. They’re good at figuring out stuff like that.



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