He’s going to heaven. All dogs go to heaven. And he’s not even worried about it. He just accepts it, plain and simple.
He loves mornings. But, he believes in going to bed when the sun goes down and not waking up until it rises. (Which becomes problematic when he’s my alarm clock as winter draws near.)
He either likes you or he doesn’t. He feels no need to explain the reasoning. Although he does prefer men… Might have something to do with living with two women all that time. Notice: black dog seeking male bonding time. Cue Dave.
He doesn’t get all worked up about stuff the way I do. He’s perfectly happy that his bed is destroyed, the new toy has been chewed in half already, and that the floors are dirty. However, it could just be that he isn’t responsible for providing beds, buying toys, or cleaning the floors… (yay for being a grown up).
He doesn’t dwell on heartaches or deadlines or to-do lists. His plan? Wake up, do cool things, go to bed. Maybe that should be my Monday manifesto. I think I’ll get posters made.
You get the idea. He’s got it pretty good. Those of us working on being grown up (all groan up by Paul Angone anyone?) have a few more challenges. I do believe it’s called responsibility.
Maybe I’ll take a night off from responsibility after I fulfill all my… responsibilities.