My name is Max and I have a little something I'd like to whisper in your ear. I know that you humans lead busy lives. Some have to work, some have children to raise. It always seems like you running here and there, often much too fast, often never noticing the truly grand things in life. Look at me now, while you sit there at your computer. See the way my dark brown eyes look at yours? They are slightly cloudy now, that comes with age. The grey hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle. You smile at me; I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine? Do you see a spirit, a soul inside who loves you as no other could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all tresspasses of prior wrong doing for just a simple moment of your time? That is all I ask. To slow down, even if for a few minutes to be with me. So many times you have been saddened by the words you read on that screen, of others of my kind passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so quickly, sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat. Sometimes we age so slowly before your eyes that you do not even seem to know, until the very end, when we look at you with grizzled muzzles and cataract clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when we take that long sleep, to run free in distant lands. I may not be here tomorrow; I may not be here next week. Someday you will shed the waters from your eyes that humans have when deep grief fills their souls, and you will be angry at yourself that you did not have just "one more day" with me. Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves me. We have now, together. So come, sit down here next to me on the floor. And look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard and deep enough we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me not as "alpha" or as "trainer" or even a "Mom or Dad", come to me as a living soul and stroke my fur and let us look deep into one anothers eyes and talk. I may tell you something about the fun of my chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you something profound about myself or even live in general. You decided to have me in your life (I hope) because you wanted a soul to share just such things with. Someone very different from you, and here I am. I am a dog, but I am alive. I can feel emotion, I feel pain and physical senses, and I can revel in differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a "dog on two feet" - I know what you are. You are human, in all your quirkiness and I love you still. Now, come sit with me, on the floor. Enter my world and let time slow down even if only for 15 minutes. Look deep in my eyes and whisper into my ears. Speak with your heart, with your joy and I will know your true self. We may not have tomorrow and life is oh so very short.
Love
Max (on behalf of canines everywhere)
(author unknown)
When I say move it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two dogs in the way. The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about that. Do not think I will continue to sleep on the couch to insure your comfort. Look at videos of dogs sleeping....they actually can curl up in a ball! It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but doggie sarcasm.
When I am playing the pinball machine, jumping up and trying to grab the ball through the glass is not helpful. Barking at me because I'm not helping you achieve your goal does not win you any extra brownie points.
My CDs are not miniature frisbees.
For the last time there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miricle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw and whine, try to turn the knob, or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. In addition I have been using bathrooms for years; canine attendence is not mandatory.
The proper order is kiss me then go sniff other dogs butts. I cannot stress this enough. It would be such a simple change for you guys to make. :-)
