It's a Dog's Life

I envy my dog some days. After my last post, I went to the bed and cuddled him as I said I would. He rolled over, got belly rubs, then licked me and went back to sleep. Then he got tucked under the covers (accident, honestly) and laid there giving more kisses, then crawled under the sheets and was as happy as could be just sprawled out under there. This morning, he got to go outside, check the fence for his friend the deer, and go chase off whatever squirrels he could find. While I'm sifting through job openings, 75% of which are for medical people, and 20% for "2-5 years experience required, he was on the back of the couch looking out the window. Then he gets to cuddle while I drink coffee and watch a tv show to finish waking up. Then he gets to charge back outside, happy as can be, to sniff around while I, the human, get to pull up big weeds/small trees, whichever term you choose to apply to the damn things, all of which are connected by the roots. Even now, as I take a break from the heat, he is crashed out on my bed, legs out and completely unaware. His food is given to him to eat whenever he wants, there's always plenty of water, and the biggest annoyances he has are being picked for fleas, and the deer always being on the other side of the fence where he can't go see them up close.

The phrase "It's a dog's life" is so twisted around it's not even funny. At least with my spoiled mutt. Ah well, back to fixing up the yard.