My Dog is Going to Take Over the Universe
...and other contemplations of the day.
I was dropping a friend of at the airport. Or rather, my dad was dropping my friend of at the airport, my dog was in the front seat for some reason, and I was in the back seat. After we left her, I would catch my dog staring at me. She put her head on the armrest and stared at me with an uninterpretable look. I looked back, and thus we began a staring contest. When I felt my resolve giving out, I winked at her. And SHE WINKED BACK. It may have been the most disorienting moment of my life. I winked with my right eye, and then she winked with her right eye. I turned away, and so did the dog.
There was only one logical conclusion to be drawn: my dog is possessed with something much smarter than a dog or she's a smarter dog than I gave her credit for. And today, when I told her to look left (without pointing) she looked left. I'm more concerned every day. I had associated mimicry with monkeys, not dogs. Nor did I think that my dog understood words and associated actions so complex as "Look left." Keep your eye on your dog: they're hiding something.
Next thought!
How is it that slow walkers are always in the way? I mean, I understand that by virtue of slowing down the traffic flow, they're in the way, but they're pathblockers in a very real way. Have you ever noticed how they take up the entire sidewalk with their glacial speed pace? You're walking along at a fast clip and then BOOM, you're trapped behind a slow walker until they turn. And if you want to get around, you have to dash through the row of clothing (in a department store, a particularly slow walk-inducing place) and dart in front of them when you make it back to the path. Or on the street, you have to walk off the curb to get in front. You can't walk at your normal pace when passing, however, because no matter how slowly they move, if you walk the detour they somehow end up ahead of you.
And you can't get around them on stairwells, either. Somehow even the tiniest slow walkers take up the entire stairwell. Infuriated, your feet itch to get where you're going. But you're trapped, forced to move so slowly that you fear falling or cardiac arrest from the stress she's causing you.
The message of the day is be aware of your surroundings. Watch out for your pod dog and make sure you're not the metaphorical cholesterol from a hamburger clogging up the artery of the sidewalk.
I was dropping a friend of at the airport. Or rather, my dad was dropping my friend of at the airport, my dog was in the front seat for some reason, and I was in the back seat. After we left her, I would catch my dog staring at me. She put her head on the armrest and stared at me with an uninterpretable look. I looked back, and thus we began a staring contest. When I felt my resolve giving out, I winked at her. And SHE WINKED BACK. It may have been the most disorienting moment of my life. I winked with my right eye, and then she winked with her right eye. I turned away, and so did the dog.
There was only one logical conclusion to be drawn: my dog is possessed with something much smarter than a dog or she's a smarter dog than I gave her credit for. And today, when I told her to look left (without pointing) she looked left. I'm more concerned every day. I had associated mimicry with monkeys, not dogs. Nor did I think that my dog understood words and associated actions so complex as "Look left." Keep your eye on your dog: they're hiding something.
Next thought!
How is it that slow walkers are always in the way? I mean, I understand that by virtue of slowing down the traffic flow, they're in the way, but they're pathblockers in a very real way. Have you ever noticed how they take up the entire sidewalk with their glacial speed pace? You're walking along at a fast clip and then BOOM, you're trapped behind a slow walker until they turn. And if you want to get around, you have to dash through the row of clothing (in a department store, a particularly slow walk-inducing place) and dart in front of them when you make it back to the path. Or on the street, you have to walk off the curb to get in front. You can't walk at your normal pace when passing, however, because no matter how slowly they move, if you walk the detour they somehow end up ahead of you.
And you can't get around them on stairwells, either. Somehow even the tiniest slow walkers take up the entire stairwell. Infuriated, your feet itch to get where you're going. But you're trapped, forced to move so slowly that you fear falling or cardiac arrest from the stress she's causing you.
The message of the day is be aware of your surroundings. Watch out for your pod dog and make sure you're not the metaphorical cholesterol from a hamburger clogging up the artery of the sidewalk.
posted by Meredith at 8:25 PM
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