Tasha at the top of the frame; Cassie on the left, Lucky on the right
A friend points out that my posts so far have been sweet, not cynical. She's right. So it's time to begin to earn my stripes; it ain't for nothin' that this blog is called As a Cynic Sees It.
First though: the picture is of our three dogs. Ransom and I got our first dog, Brendan, a Sheltie, while we were still living in New York City, in 1986. He was soon joined by a lab mix, Toby ("the most wonderful dog there ever was") and by Misha, a beautiful Husky, courtesy of my cousin Meg in Rochester, New York. When Brendan died 11 years later we decided that two was easier and didn't replace him. After a few months though it felt weird. We had had three dogs for ten years; two just didn't feel right. So we got a third and have had three ever since.
The current three are Tasha, the oldest, a Chow-mix who is the alpha dog and quite the bitch. Cassie is second oldest and even at 10 romps like a puppy; enthusiasm is her middle name. Lucky is only five and is the most mellow; he's the only male but happily lets Tasha wear the pants.
I love dogs. I'm not a bumper sticker kind of guy but if I were I might choose "The more people I meet, the more I like my dogs." I like dogs more than people because
- they don't drive cars badly and talk on the phone while doing so
- they don't write checks at the grocery store
- they don't watch stupid, inane TV shows like Fear Factor
- they don't know who Lindsay Lohan is
- they don't invade other countries
- they don't care about who's having sex with whom
- they don't think they're too fat, or too old or not attractive enough
- they don't talk in movie theatres -- unless they're actually in the movie, and even then, only rarely
- they don't wear t-shirts with stupid things on them
- they don't wear pants falling off their ass
- they don't go to birthday parties where every youngster gets a present lest he feel left out
- they don't expect that everyone wins; they know failure is part of life and they learn from it
- they don't think that American dogs are the best dogs in the world
- they don't avoid classical music at all costs
- they don't talk loudly on their cell phone in public
- they don't chew gum in public
- they don't expect the school bus to stop at their driveway even though it stopped at their neighbor's
- they don't hurt the environment and not care about it
- they don't think it's all about them
Well, ok, they do think it's all about them. And that's ok with me.
To paraphrase someone I can't remember, "I hope one day to be the person my dog thinks I am."
ReplyDeleteMy dogs think I am the worlds greatest hunter and that's alright with me.
And you are perfectly right about three. I fear when we next lose one it will be time to not replace, as I don't want to leave too many to be heartbroken when we go.
I find turning three times before settling into my bed is a good thing to do. Not sure why, it just feels right.