I woke this morning with my guide dog standing directly over me. She’d climbed into the bed with stealth. She was staring into my sleep wrinkled face. “Its time to get up, rare man.” So I got up.
You can feel a dog’s stare. It is canine electricity. I think the ancients escaped calamity because their dogs could wake them silently. Dog-stare receptors are in our DNA.
This morning there was no ambush. My yellow lab just wanted her breakfast. But if you take the poetry out of animal relationships all you have left is poop and appetite. (Everyone do your own joke.)
On the subject of dog poop I’ve always liked this observation by Jerry Seinfeld:
“Dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them’s making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge?”
Planet of the Blind 