For the next ten days I’ll mainly be doing this:
Hopefully back soon in one piece.
I am suffering from a bad case of dog envy. Basically, I want to be a dog. I don’t care about the fleas or the endless diet of cardboard dog biscuits. I don’t even care about the halitosis. I would still be one of my dogs in a heartbeat.
Why? Let me count the ways…
1. The dogs don’t have a to-do list or a diary.
2. The dogs never worry about whether they’re putting on weight. Even if they are, they don’t care.
3. The dogs aren’t concerned about editing their next novel.
4. The dogs never have to wander around Tesco wondering what the hell we’re going to eat tonight.
5. The dogs don’t have to cook it either.
6. The dogs don’t get spots.
7. The dogs never lose their car keys. Or their phone.
8. The dogs never have to bother about personal hygiene.
9. Nor do the dogs fret about keeping fit. They just are.
10. The dogs don’t feel guilty when they see the growing pile of ironing in the utility room. They lie on it.
11. The dogs aren’t panicking about their tax return.
12. The dogs don’t have to enter into protracted negotiations with their kids over every single insignificant decision. They just look bored and walk away.
13. As far as I can tell, dogs don’t get three-day migraines.
14. The dogs don’t have to speak to someone in Mumbai every time they have a query on their credit card.
15. The dogs don’t notice when they’re having a bad hair day.
16. The dogs never, ever have to go to the dentist.
17. The dogs don’t bother with makeup. The effect would be lost under all that hair.
18. The dogs get to lie around dozing all day, either in the sun or out, depending on their mood.
19. The dogs think a walk around the scraggy woods up the road is the closest thing to bliss.
20. The dogs seem to actually enjoy running until they pant.
Mind you, the dogs aren’t going skiing the week after next. Suckers.
Thanks to Dave Walker