Major Life Changes: Part Two

Yesterday, the LBC VUBP

(very unusual blogging people)

asked for my assessment of the topic “major life changes.”

And I tried my best to be serious.

And adult.

But the thing is,

the more serious a topic,

the more humour I find in it.

It’s a mechanism that goes back to nursery days.

Of listening to the adventures of all those comical philosophical animals.

Like Aesop’s friends,

Or Mother Goose,

Or Mickey,

who understood that a message

has to be wrapped as a present.

And, sorry, but all those wonderful cats doing supposedly philosophical things

that everyone drops their work in order to watch on facebook.

At exactly nine am.

And then discusses,

and mails,

for a half hour

just doesn’t make it.

In my humble opinion.

Either wrapping,

or philosophical message wise.

Which brings me to the crux of this whole philosophical animal thing:

Where exactly is the dogs’ union during all this, I ask you?

I mean really guys.

Time to get organized.

All the air time YOU get is cute.



You’re twice as big

and twice as smart

and all you get is cute?

Time to get going.

Let the cat out of the bag-oops

about what you really are on this planet for.


when someone in your house dies,

you cuddle.

You sit on the feet of the survivors,

lean against their legs,

and sometimes cry.

You feel it,

and you can’t really express it.

But you try to take up your part of the sorrow.

And what about when you move house with your humans?

You protect them on the journey,

check out the new place to see it is safe,

every last corner,


when all the work is over,

you sleep.

Knowing they can too.

You have done your job.

Major life changes.


And when someone you love is depressed?

You lick their hand.

To show bonding,

And you listen.

For hours.

As they tell you their problems.

And ask you what you think .

Then you nod wisely.

Because you know it is all part of life,

which will always go on in one form or another

until the day you are called home.

So why not the good form.

And you pick up a ball.

And bang them with it a few times.

So they know it is time to get up and get going again.

on autopilot for a while,

but that also is part of living.

And as long as there are long walks to take,

and green grass to roll in,

and dog jokes to tell,


inch by inch,

you will convince your human

life is worth living.

And that, just around the corner is a new, great life change coming.

You can smell it.

You’re a dog.

copyright 2016





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