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How To Train Your Human
How To Train Your Human
Apparently it doesn't take as much for a dog to be content as it does for the human species.
He's sprawled out halfway across the couch, halfway across me chewing on an old shoe. No, it doesn't take much, a full belly, a belly rub ...little things.
In his furry canine-brain the bleak economic forecast, the latest spectacle of celebrity debauchery, the political rancor of the moment; none of these things exist. If ignorance is bliss, he's ecstatic.
We humans seem to be a bit more complicated. On the other hand - or should I say paw - dogs seem to be devoid of whatever psychosis it is that compels us of the bipedal hominid variety to acquire all the things we can, as quickly as we can acquire them.
"Hurry up and go buy the newest product, otherwise it may not become obsolete before you can finish paying for it!" This is the mantra of the Consumers.
It's a peculiar form of dementia that possesses us, that equates happiness or self-worth with possessions. Peculiar, so much so that it seems to define us as well as to perpetuate our inevitable state of un-happiness. All those expensive little electronic gadgets we covet, absolutely of no value to the four-legged species. So if the labrador down the street were to say, win the lottery, don't look for him to rush out and buy a new doghouse just because he can. Categorically speaking, dogs are content to a fault.
Not to say that they are without their quirks. Our current domesticated canine freeloader / occupant is hovering somewhere between Newman and George Costanza on the Seinfeld Scale of Neurosis. When one of his playthings slides up under the couch beyond his reach, he paws at the floor like he's trying to dig a hole in it. Then I have to get up and move the couch back to retreive whatever semi-chewed object he lost. It took me a while at first to catch on but I guess it proves that you can still teach an old human new tricks! Now everytime he starts pawing at the floor, I get up and shove the couch back! Talk about Pavlov! Wait?!! Did my dog just outsmart me in some sort of a reverse-pavlovian experiment on classical conditioning?
I think I've just been played!
Change Your Thinking!
it's a peculiar form of dementia that possesses us, that equates happiness or self-worth with possessions.
Not so smart after all!
It's a battle of wits between me and the dog. One of us is armed with higher intelligence ...the other likes to chew on an old shoe.
I think I just got played!
Mark Twain said, "If heaven were based on merit, your dog would go in, and you would not!"