Perspective

Dogs seem to have a unique perspective on life.  Take the simple task of quenching thirst, for instance.  My dog, Lily, will pass right by her freshly filled water bowl to take a drink out of the toilet.  She’s smart by canine standards, so smart she even attempts to match wits with her Momma (a well documented occurrence).  Yet despite the fact she witnesses her human family use the toilet for its intended purpose, she still drinks out of it.  That is an odd perspective on life.

We could discuss Lily’s fascination with her own tail, or contemplate what motivates her to want to stick her tongue up my nose (a problem made more severe by her lack of toilet sensibilities), but the unique doggy perspective comes into clearest focus when you consider the ghost which lives in her bottom.  It seems dear Lily has a gas problem, at least that’s what I’d call it.  Lily, however, doesn’t seem to comprehend this concept.  It appears Lily thinks a ghost lives in her hind quarters.  This malevolent poltergeist of stink escapes with a “pfft” or a gentle “pop” when she jumps onto the couch or bed.  At these moments, she gets that look on her furry face as she stares toward her rear.  It’s clear she’s thinking, “The butt ghost is here again.  Why do ghosts smell so bad?”  Perspective.