I’m in creative mode this evening. Love these moments of peace where I can let my mind wander. And as I started to write my thoughts about existentialism and other random stuff, all I can hear is my dog literally tearing up every bag or piece of trash he can find. And there is a lot of bags, because I’m in the process of unpacking. That’s my new excuse for my messiness. I’ll be unpacking until I’m packing up again, basically.
Anyway. He has a lot of trash to work through in the room beside me. I can picture his face perfectly. He is laying on his freaking fancy ass cushioned king size dog bed. And he is ripping the trash slowly, knocking his paws profusely on the ground for stronger affect. This dog.
Lest you think this dog is neglected–I had coffee with him this morning on the patio and fed him random pieces of bread that was going old on the counter. We watched the birds together, I rubbed his tummy.
Mid-day, I had to go out to an eye doctor appointment. When I came home I stopped for a soda and brought Koda his absolute favorite–McDonalds cheeseburger. We chatted, I read out loud to him, he mostly just napped.
This evening I bring him home a scoop of vanilla custard Culvers ice cream. He had a full bowl of food. He drank all of the cat water. But the one thing I forgot to do was to fill his water bowl that sits beside his food. He had to get up and walk through the kitchen (10 steps?) to drink out of the giant Tupperware bowl that the cats share. I think that is what made him mad. But I laughed at him, which made him click his nails harder during his trash spree. He wanted attention and he wanted it that instant. So he hijacked my entire thought trail.
Then I started thinking. Man. He is so aware. So conscious. And I thought, what would I feel like if I were a dog? And I realize that a dogs life is very short in years…but can you imagine having only one person to interact with on a regular basis? And that person comes and goes and changes up her routines on a whim? Sure. Lounging about is wonderful. In moderation. But a dog basically has very limited interaction opportunities.
I might try to get back to the thought I started out with tonight. But I might not. Koda just reminded me, quite adamantly, that he needs some attention. Going to go rub his tummy, Give him a weirdly beef jerky for humans looking treat. Maybe look at the stars. Maybe rub my feet in the cool early summer grass.