In the 70s/80s there was a comedian who went by Gallagher ... lots of specials on HBO (when that was the new and hip thing to do).
What's the point?
He did a thing about cats ... 'Cats can't read but they can COMPARE'.
Evidently dogs do, too. And they train us to see the world from their point of view.
The longer the blond owns me, the more he's trained me to do.
At one point, the big trick was to rub his belly and give him a little kibble on bed in the morning.
Then it became a dog biscuit in the morning.
Since he's 'old', he's got some aches and pains. Don't we all? Except that he can't get to the medicine cabinet on his own.
That's evidently my job.
If I forget to give him peanut butter and cracker with aspirin and other pain killers, I hear about it. Except that he never barks or makes a noise. He goes from where the meds are kept to kitchen until he gets my attention ... yesterday it wasn't until it was almost bedtime before I realized my transgression.
If the dog were in charge of Santa's Naughty List, I'd be on it in spades.
I wonder what the next trick is going to be and just how long it will take me to learn it. Until then, I'll be spending more time in the dog house.
Long ago and far away, I used to laugh at David Letterman's Stupid (Dog) Tricks ... turns out that over the years I've been trained to do my fair share of stupid human tricks.
Blondie Boy, I always thought, is very average. If you ask him, he's a genius.
Every morning, he gets up and then gets me up to ensure he will indeed be provided with a dog-cookie before he patrols the yard. If the cookie jar doesn't make the sound (it growls), that cookie doesn't count. Evidently any cookie provided without sound effects doesn't have calories and doesn't count against the day's consumption.
In recent months, every day at five o'clock, he finds me and tells me how cute he is. Then there is the reminder to feed him. (Mealtime isn't contingent on this reminder, but he makes one anyway for good measure.)
Thing is, I had no idea how he knew every day to make the announcement at that precise time.
In my foyer, there is an old fashioned clock that has chimes. Every hour and half-hour the clock announces the time to the world. Or it would if I remembered to keep it wound.
Yesterday, the clock had worn down and wasn't ticking. The dog didn't make his announcement. I didn't think much of it.
Today, I was in the living room and could hear it chime. Right after the final bell tolled at five, the dog came in to get his dose of love.
Question is, which of us is smarter? He waits for the clock and, apparently, lives by it. I thought he was genius and was looking at the stage of the sun.
I guess if you have to ask, you already know the answer.
