The one about Shelter Pets

I’m typing this and Garf is sitting between my legs, demanding that I scratch his back. Simon is sitting beside me, supporting my writing endeavor.

Shelter pets are the greatest fans, you will never have a better fan than a shelter pet.

In their eyes you can do no wrong, They’re the best version of Fox News fans, or Nixon, I mean Trump supporters, this ship may be going down, but we still love our guy, he’s the best guy. At my best health, I’m the best guy, but even at my worst , beer gut or crohn’s flare, I’m still the best guy. if I want to work out or go for runs, they’re all about that. if I want to do Sunday naps, they’re excited about that too.

I can do a mean Michael Jackson, Billie Jean impersonation, Some marriages hold sex and finances over heads to get things done, I hold this.

I was practicing, you know, in doors, away from people, so I could later feel just how old I am, and attempt to remain cool and aloof to my wife, extra snuggle points.

But like Homeschoolers, our two welfare, stay at home, shelter dogs…

Simon and Garfunkel, they just sat there watching the whole thing, like they had never seen me before….

I am now, the coolest person in not just my dogs circle of friends, but their lives. I don’t even really care what my wife thinks anymore, I just want to be the kind of cool that my dogs think I am…

You may be disappointed to find – but I was originally AGAINST introducing dogs into this paradise Love Boat. I was afraid that, like children, it would just alter everything about our lives.

Turns out, I wasn’t wrong.

But then I started walking Simon, and he in his eight week old self, was doing crazy things like getting his face stuck in Arby’s sandwich sleeves.

And then I started writing about him- you know, just to write something, because I had writers block, but as it turns out, walking Simon every day, helped my depression and anxiety, and having your own personal fan helps your self esteem. And I do mean personal fan, like, if you went to the bathroom, he would be right there, staring at you and then get excited when you were done. You don’t mean to, but you get excited too, like yeah, that is amazing, modern plumbing, I don’t have to go outside in the grass and hide from traffic and people I work with, like you, suddenly this Monday isn’t so bad.

And writing 248 + short stories about a dog and his life. Is world building and still art. And Coincidentally, writing. Which destroys writers block.

You may not be creating or succeeding in the ways you set out to, but you are still progressing and moving forward.

Now, these two dogs are still silly and awkward, Simon is super excited and will ask a ton of questions like “have you seen sticks before? You probably have, the other day I dug the biggest hole, it was great.” But he is mellowing out as he gets older.

Garfunkel is already old, but he loves to get attention, and he is strange in his own kind of street smart way, you may over hear him convincing Simon that the earth is only as big as our small town and that if Simon goes any further he will just fall – OFF like a video game character walking out of screen.

Or smaller less complicated things, like grass isn’t colored, but if it were it’s definitely colored by crayons, over night, by trolls, and that’s where you get dew, from the sweat of their work.

And he should know, because he’s practically SEEN it.

And Simon not knowing any better, will believe him, until he asks me about it. And well, that all depends on what mood I’m in.

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