Wait up, guys!

I bark sometimes, okay? And yeah, I will admit once in a while I bare my teeth and growl too. Sorry about it all, but I am unfortunately not referring to the metaphorical this go around.

There is just something about a dog's life. Yeah yeah, they get their bellies scratched and they sleep all day and they live the good life, but there is something more to it than that--or maybe something less.

Dogs live through instinct. And their instincts are pretty good. They know exactly what they want and it's not a lot.

Eat.
Sleep.
Play Outside.

That's all I want too! I really don't think it should be that hard. When I was younger, I lived a dog's life. K-5, I followed my instincts too. But something happened. Someone told me that I needed to stay inside at a desk and hold a pencil in my hand and write things because then I could be happy. And the weird thing was I believed Someone. Don't worry, I still was allowed to eat and sleep. But playing outside turned into practices and meetings and studying and procrastinating from studying and remembering and forgetting until I forgot the world used to be a playground.

Luckily, I have two dogs. Their doopy smiles hold more wisdom than Someone ever had. I open the door when I get home from school and they rush out, out to run and chase and smell the roses (or, more accurately, the shit they scared out of the squirrels that dared to cross onto their side). Aside from the whole sniffing for poop aspect, I want to follow their tracks.

So yeah, sometimes I try to forget that I have opposable thumbs and that I can actually formulate words with a tongue that fits within my mouth. I forget because sometimes that helps me remember my instincts aren't so different from my dogs. They may not be different at all.