1. Know your hiding spots to get away from annoying relatives when necessary.
2. Rest when you can.
3. Plaster a huge grin on your face for anyone you see. Or just be really, really happy to see them.
4. Don’t be afraid to make fresh tracks.
5. But be ready to follow the leader when you need to.
6. Examine your surroundings.
8. And run.
9. And run.
10 Make snow angels.
12. And do what you have to do to get the best treats.
1. Be grateful for people who can help you get your favorite toys out of a rough spot.
2. Be grateful for good hiding spots.
3. Be grateful for people who cook for you.
4. And play with you.
5. And even let you use them as a pillow.
6. Be grateful for people who accompany you to parties you didn’t really want to go to.
7. Be grateful for your beautiful face.
8. And those who comfort you when you’re feeling sad.
10. And at the end of the day, be grateful for a soft, warm bed.
First of all and basically more important than anything else I have to say today:
My coworker brought her dogs into work today.
LOOK AT THESE NUGGETS.
Which pretty much my my entire life worth living.
You know what’s awesome about dogs?
Dogs have astounding personalities. They are way smarter then we give them credit for. They are always in the mood for hugs.
And of course, the best part-
They are perpetually grateful.
I’ve dogsit for enough pooches to be completely assured that they are always grateful.
For. Every. Little. Thing.
And that’s a big part of what yoga is trying to teach us – to be grateful for our bodies and minds and breaths and practices and lives.
But hey, you don’t want me to tell you about what there is to be grateful for.
You want my dogs to do it.
1. Be grateful for hugs.
2. Be grateful for food.
3. Be grateful for naps in the sun.
4. Be grateful for people who let you stick your face into theirs.
5. Be grateful for those who are happy to see you whenever you get home.
6. Be grateful for soft couches.
7. And snuggles.
8. And your family, even if you fight sometimes.
9. Be grateful for the opportunity to laugh at yourself.
10. Mostly, just be grateful about life. Because it’s awesome. And so are you.
I’m dog sitting, internet. Somewhere out in the not-quite-country of Where-I-Live, for a yoga student of mine.
Theoretically, there are two dogs and three cats in this house.
I have been here for several hours, however, and am pretty sure that they made up a cat. Or possibly are haunted by a very convincing cat ghost.
I have obviously seen both of the dogs, because dogs are terrible at hide and seek. I currently have one cat in my lap, whose name is possibly Violet and possibly Rose and possibly who’s a good wittle kitten? (Hint – she is). I have located the cat that I was warned I would not see. That still leaves one cat.
If I do not find this cat by the time I go to bed, I will officially start panicking, but for now I will assume that it is doing cat things elsewhere.
(By the way, some people have accused me of disliking cats, because of the way that I write about my own cat, Marmaduke. This is false. I am thoroughly indifferent to cats. Some cats I actually enjoy, even. Besides, I saw Marm just last night and we had a pleasant interaction (in that I didn’t acknowledge his existence and he
OH MY GOD YOU GUYS. IT FOUND ME.
See? I like cats.
I might officially have the two stupidest dogs on the planet.
Let me explain.
I’m still in Canada visiting my grandparents, whose house is right on the lake. Not lake close. Not lake side. Lake on.
My two golden retriever puppies, Patty Mayonnaise and Dr. Pepper, are H2o enthusiasts. They swim like otters who have spend the entire morning unattended in a candy shop. Patty, in particular, is aqua obsessive. She will figuratively swim until she dies. Pepper enjoys BEING in water, but less so the physical aspect.
Let’s omit the part where it took them 15 minutes to even figure out that the house was near a body of water. Namely, the 15 minutes it took for me to put a swimsuit on and take them down to the beach. Come on, dogs.
No, the part that had me in stitches was the part where my dear dogs could not see the massive schools of spawning carp that were literally underneath their noses.
Side note – did you see what I did up there with the correct usage of figuratively and literally? That’s how it’s done, internet.
Yet I digress.
Each spring, the lakefront right outside my grandparent’s house is home to multiple healthy populations of fish… uh… doin’ it. As only fish can do. Meaning by laying eggs and – you know what, you get the idea.
I distinctly remember one day when I was a kid, about 7 years old. I was swimming in the shallows and I caught, with my bare hands, a pike who was clearly sedated by his (her?) post-coital bliss. I grabbed hold of the struggling serpentine shape and high-tailed to the house, where mi familia was enjoying some late afternoon apéritifs.
I proudly walked into the middle of this pleasant gathering, and said (true story), “Look! I caught dinner!”
It took some time for then to convince me to put the fish back in the lake. Apparently people don’t eat pike (reasons why I’m single #4 – I’m wicked good at catching spawning pike).
Long story summarized – lots of fish up in this lake. Massive fish. I saw at least five 10-pounders.
What catches my dog’s attention, pray tell? What makes them raise their hackles and growl and clash their teeth?
This inanimate, non-threatening rock. Keep in mind there are huge fish swimming INTO my dog’s legs (fish are dumb).
But no, apparently the rock was a bigger security issue than the fish.
Because of reasons?
I don’t know.
So I really didn’t want to finish cleaning my room today, internet, but these guys showed up to offer me moral support.
So here’s the thrilling conclusion to Weird Things I Found In My Room aka I might be a psychopath.
1. Pages and Pages of Whatever This Is.
Seriously. 16 pages of meticulously gridded Scrabble style animal species. This is crazily precise and super bizarre. I must have been reallyyyyy bored in a math class or something. Why animals, though? Just because? I don’t know.
2. An Astrolabe.
Okay so I have an astrolabe because I took an ancient astronomy course once, but that doesn’t explain why I STILL have an astrolabe. It’s not remotely accurate for the area I now live in.
“Hey, wanna come over and check out my astrolabe?” is a terrible pickup line, so that’s not it either (Reason #6 why I’m still single- I’m terrible with pickup lines and have astrolabes lying around like it ain’t no thang).
Plus, the Stars app on my iPhone is a thing. I DO NOT NEED THIS ANYMORE.
3. A Plastic Wineglass Full of Rocks.
Owls everywhere. Owls out the wazoo. Owls from A to Z. This piddly sample doesn’t even put a dent in the amount of owl paraphernalia that I own. It’s absurd. It’s like a pokémon collection. There’s a character in John Green’s book Paper Towns whose parents own the worlds largest collection of black santas. That’s going to be me in 20 years with owls. I’m going to be the weird owl hoarder with owl astrolabes and owl posters and pages and pages of “owl” just written over and over.
Oh my god. I’m a psychopath.