I’ve been having a tough time with the dogs lately. Running off, whining, breaking things, it’s not been great. But today was pretty good. It appears that dogs, just like people, can suffer from seasonal affective disorder. They were bummed, as ready for summer as I am. Except dogs can’t complain. They can’t simply say, this sucks, I’m going to mope. They can only moan and act up. They’re not that far from me, really. 

Today it was sunny and beautiful and I was actually able to work outside for a spell. The dogs loved it, bless them. They played and chewed on bones in the grass and simply sat around. Roby crawled in the grass, Abby walked in it, Jack came by and we drank beer after work. 

People who say their dogs are like children or people generally bother me, more so now that I have an actual human child. But there is a kernel of truth to the idea, they are as tempestuous and strange as any person I know, and that should be more reason to love them, and not less.