Happy as a Dog
One of my favorite authors is Carl Hiaasen. He writes fun books where the bad guys are always land developers in Miami. In his book Sick Puppy, one of the characters is a dog. A Labrador retriever. A very goal-free dog.
The dog was having a grand time. That’s the thing about being a Labrador retriever – you were born for fun. Seldom was your loopy, free-wheeling mind cluttered by contemplation, and never at all by somber worry; every day was a romp. What else could there possibly be to life? Eating was a thrill. Pissing was a treat. Shitting was a joy. And licking your own balls? Bliss. And everywhere you went were gullible humans who patted and hugged and fussed over you.
Labradors operated by the philosophy that life was too brief for anything but fun and mischief and spontaneous carnality….Labradors tended to live exclusively, gleefully, and obliviously in the moment.
When I read this passage, it made me wonder if sometimes the human brain is our enemy. Maybe it is our ability to think and rationalize that becomes a barrier to true and gleeful bliss. So perhaps, just for today, I’ll choose to be happy like a dog.