Sunday, May 26, 2013

Why It Is Good To Be A Dog



















This morning, I stumbled downstairs to make a cuppa coffee, after having gotten something like 12 hours of sleep.  I'm grumbly first thing in the morning, and even with the extra snoozing of late, am still very tired.

The moment my feet hit the stairs and it is clear that I am coming down, though?  Our dog, Roxie, begins her quiet keening demand to be let out of her kennel.

Once the door is released, she bounds forth, cheery as can be, tail wagging in a frenzy of greeting and joy.  Oh, happy day, she seems to say, my person has come downstairs to play with me and be with me.  This is the best day ever!

For Roxie, every single day that she is let out of the kennel to spend time with all of us is the best day ever.  And so, she has the best day ever pretty much all the time.

This is living in the moment at its finest.


No dragging around worry or regret from the day before.  No fretting about whether the evil scourge that is luggage will appear and whisk away her people (unless and until that luggage actually does appear, and then heaven help us all).   No serious agitation or crazed annoyance, unless the UPS truck drives by with all its rattling threats and engine noises, only to be immediately forgotten once it rounds the curve and goes down the hill on Main Street.

She just is so happy so much of the time because she has everything she wants right here in the company of people she loves and a surety that her belly will be filled by some luscious morsels at some point soon and a comfy bed in which to rest at the end of the day.  Sometimes a good walk or two, sometimes some enjoyable toss the squeaky toy of choice will happen until she collapses in a spent, panting heap on the carpet, and sometimes when the planets and stars align just right she gets to sleep up on the big bed upstairs while we all read in the evenings (or lately when I take a nap during the day).  And all is right with the world.

For her, nothing else matters.  

Wouldn't we all be happier if we thought of our lives like our dogs do?  Savoring the good in the moment, and then embracing it whole again the next day when the people we love awaken to start afresh?  Imagine almost always living your life in a state of joy and gratitude:  it would be awesome.

As I type this, Roxie is vigilantly watching our birdfeeder for the evil squirrel hordes that visit about this time every morning.  After which, she will lay down beside me for a well-earned nap. 

In my next life, I want to come back as my spoiled and happy pooch. 

(Photo of Roxie, our west highland white terrier, defeating her evil arch-nemesis, The Hedgehog.  She has defeated this toy so many times that he now no long has any fur on his bottom.  It's good to be the pooch.  Photo by Christy Hardin Smith.)

2 comments:

Jill said...

My mom had a Westie, Pearl. I was nuts about here...the perfect marriage of stubborn and adorable.

Christy Hardin Smith said...

Westies are awesome, aren't they? Ours is very smart, and can charm the pants off anyone. If we could just get her past her utter hatred of the UPS truck, life would be perfect...