My dog is my favorite non-human animal on earth.
Whenever we arrive at the dog park, we are barbarians at the gates, restless to permeate the membranes of these verdant cocoons; eager to find tranquility and smoke it from its hole.
The dog is my fierce friend, my loyal companion. When I’m depressed, he energizes me with his playfulness. When I need to relax, he is a palm frond for my aching ass muscles.
Sometimes people try to “tame” the contrarian fires burning in my dog’s wolf-warrior soul. To slow this elegant engine of destruction from its march through neighbors’ backyards and their cat-litter boxes.
If someone ever tried to hurt my dog, the forecast would call for a torrent of fist-showers. My knuckles would rain hell on his assailant with the ferocity of a valkyrie carrying its freshest kill to Valhalla.
But I admire the chaos and incivility that dogs bring to the table. Chaos sells, and my dog’s buying.
Fun tidbit: My ex-wife and I enjoy joint custody of the dog. When he’s not with me being awesome, he’s protecting her and my son from the city’s most ignoble scum.
He is the greatest canine I know.
x-posted at When Falls the Coliseum