Wednesday, December 07, 2005

The Simple Things

Near the end of my tenure at my first Grown-Up Job, I’d reached a sort of breaking point. I was ready to go. The work was no longer challenging or interesting and the hours of unpaid overtime required for weeks at a time were grinding me down.

One Saturday, I dragged myself into the office while still dressed in my pajamas. That morning, I realised I might be able to experience some measure of job satisfaction if I were able to wear pajamas to work every day. In fact, on my last day, I wore pajama bottoms, which were deliciously comfortable.

Who would have thought that such a simple thing – soft flannel pants – would give me job satisfaction. But life is funny that way. Sometimes, a very simple thing can change everything.

Right now, I think my life would be at least 2000% better if I had a dog. I’d settle for any decent-sized dog (minimum of 40 pounds – rat dogs need not apply), although my ideal would be my Kodiak, Kody-Kods, the best dog in all the land.

Although I enjoy my uninterrupted morning coffee routine, I desperately miss the unconditional love, the playful antics, the happy oblivion that only dogs can bring into your life.

Irish dogs, when met on the street, are incredibly standoffish. They either bark ferociously, run away or regard you suspiciously. My father-in-law tells me that historically, Irish dogs were more likely to get a boot up the arse than a scratch behind the ears. While the standard middle-class mutt in America is a pampered, mollycoddled child-replacement, Irish dogs, even the more respectable middle-class variety, are often let roam and mightn’t have had the best experiences with strangers. The best you can hope for from an Irish dog is for him to tolerate your attentions. A tail wag is probably asking too much.

I am so desperate for doggy attention and affection, I’ve caught myself trying to interact with the Microsoft Windows Search Dog. On more than one occasion.

In 17 days, I arrive in Cleveland, where I can’t wait to see Kody-Kods. Seeing my parents and my nephew and my brothers is all well and good, but it’s the prospect of seeing Kodiak I find most exciting. The helicopter tail. The bounding enthusiasm. The yippee-I’m-so-excited-to-see-you greeting. That’s what I daydream about on these short, dark December days.

3 Comments:

At 9 December 2005 at 16:45, Blogger Arbusto said...

When I go to my mom's I get more excited about seeing the cat than anything.

 
At 9 December 2005 at 20:30, Blogger Lyss said...

I wonder what the Irish think of the AMericans who dress their dogs up in cute outfits and give them special doggie Kabbahlah water and take them to doggie day spas?

 
At 11 December 2005 at 03:10, Blogger Career Guy said...

Mmmm-think I'll go rough house with old Kodiak right now, maybe curl up on the floor and give him butt scratches. Bet he'd like that.

 

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