T.G.G. Moogly
Traditional Atheist
I believe in mine.
Of all the Dogs I have ever known or known about, the one I know is real is the one I have never seen, never fed, never slept with, never gave a bath, never brushed, touched or gave a kiss. It's the one that never sat at my feet hoping for a treat, or met me at the door unconditionally ecstatic that I'm home. It's the one I never took for a midnight walk so it could catch up on all the smells along the walk, take a pee, a poop, and sniff out a rabbit.
It's the one that never laid it's paws across my chest at 5:00am on my day off hoping to fetch, or licked the salty sweat from my legs. It's the one that never barked at a knock at the door or leaped into a stranger's lap. It's the one who's belly I never rubbed until its eyes closed and it started to snore. It's the one that never farted while sleeping at my feet or couldn't wait to get outside to eat the wet grass. It's not the one from which I pulled numerous ticks while running my fingers through it's fur feeling for anything that shouldn't be there. And nor is it the one I could make jump and growl just by getting low on the floor and staring at.
It's not the one that was so small as a pup I thought there was something wrong but then grew into a companion that herded me and the kids around the house. It's not the one that leaped from the highest step, landed, rolled and then ran back to do it all again. It's not the one that took three tries to get up on the sofa or who's head I could barely see as it lay in the cool of the tall grass.
And it's certainly not the one that dove into the surf to retrieve its ball, or into the lake or out of the kayak to get across the stream. It's certainly none of those.
I believe in my Dog.
Of all the Dogs I have ever known or known about, the one I know is real is the one I have never seen, never fed, never slept with, never gave a bath, never brushed, touched or gave a kiss. It's the one that never sat at my feet hoping for a treat, or met me at the door unconditionally ecstatic that I'm home. It's the one I never took for a midnight walk so it could catch up on all the smells along the walk, take a pee, a poop, and sniff out a rabbit.
It's the one that never laid it's paws across my chest at 5:00am on my day off hoping to fetch, or licked the salty sweat from my legs. It's the one that never barked at a knock at the door or leaped into a stranger's lap. It's the one who's belly I never rubbed until its eyes closed and it started to snore. It's the one that never farted while sleeping at my feet or couldn't wait to get outside to eat the wet grass. It's not the one from which I pulled numerous ticks while running my fingers through it's fur feeling for anything that shouldn't be there. And nor is it the one I could make jump and growl just by getting low on the floor and staring at.
It's not the one that was so small as a pup I thought there was something wrong but then grew into a companion that herded me and the kids around the house. It's not the one that leaped from the highest step, landed, rolled and then ran back to do it all again. It's not the one that took three tries to get up on the sofa or who's head I could barely see as it lay in the cool of the tall grass.
And it's certainly not the one that dove into the surf to retrieve its ball, or into the lake or out of the kayak to get across the stream. It's certainly none of those.
I believe in my Dog.