“Oh god. No! It’s too early in the morning for my heart to be this activated…”
Here, it wasn’t even 8 A.M. I’m still rubbing the booger glue out of my eye corners. My coffee hasn’t even begun to do its worst on the after-effects of a horrible night’s non-rest that felt more like an alien abduction involving an assault followed by a memory wipe. And my shoulders are bowed over on my chest cavity like a castrated husband from the remake of Stepford Wives. So, when I see this shiz, and my heart starts swelling like a cardiac balloon stuck to a happiness pump, it’s got nowhere to go.
I’m doomed:
And now that I’ve had one hit… I immediately need a three million hour loop of this video.
Seriously, I can go through a day feeling just awful and not wanting to speak to anyone. But when I see a golden retriever smiling and bounding, I turn into a Ritalin requiring child. Throw a bouquet of its fuzzy assed offspring into the mix, and it’s like a double puncture adrenaline shot to the heart post overdose. I’m ready. Where are we going? And when? Let me get my coat!
But there’s more from this tale of ten wagging tales we can glean than glee.
First, I’ll say, I fully acknowledge my tendency to anthropomorphize pets. I have half a mind to do an entire series with my dog in the same vein as that “Conversations with my three year old” bit on Youtube wherein she’d be portrayed as an adult woman, donning hipster glasses and a collar, and saying things like, “Okay. Have a good day. I’m going to shit right where you’re standing forty seconds after you leave. Love you.” (without even bothering to even look up from the Washington Pawst as I leave).
But it goes the other way too – the flipside of thinking my dog acts according to people principles. I find myself holding people to dog examples when I see a vid like this – of mama dogs playing with their pups. I can’t help but wonder, “why don’t more human moms do that with their kids?” I don’t mean most mom’s neglect playtime with their tots – but that they don’t really put their heart into it. “Here’s your toy. Don’t mess up mama’s hair and Versace blouse, now. I’ve bought your love! What more do you want from me – human contact? Go to your room for speaking such blasphemy!” They’re afraid to get down and dirty and roughhouse and throw all caution about appearance to the wind, getting lost in play. What a fluffing travesty. And not just for the kids, either – for themselves, their lovers, and friends too. It undeniably speeds up the aging process. I’m pretty sure we get our first permanent frown lines the moment we start making the wrong shit a priority.
Because it’s a virus that spreads into every relationship.
We anthropomorphize enough. Time to try something new.
Let’s animal-pomorphize ourselves more and learn a new golden rule from this golden retriever:
“Play with others as you wish your parents had played withyou.”