Coronavirus Quarrantine and Dogs
Updated: May 22
My two dogs must feel that they are in heaven. Their master is home all of the time. They are getting 2-3 walks a day. I am sure this is true for many others that own the loveable four legged creatures. The dogs have been therapeutic companions in ths time that is full of unknowns, panic and fear. It is ths fear that has allowed us to relax those rules about sleeping at the foot of the bed or on laying on top of the sofa cushion. We want them by our side all of the time. We are jealous of their ignorance of this dire situation. We envy their absolute, unconditional love for us. Their loyalty to their leader and complete myopia to all of the sins of the world sometimes make us wish that we were the ones begging for a treat.
Dogs are conditioned for quarrantine. They are used to being sheltered with no place to go all day. They catch up on a lot of sleep, which a signicant portion of that deep REM must provide some delightfu dreams. They dream about all of the dogs butts they want to sniff when their master gets home and takes them for a walk. They dream about all the places they want to leave their mark. A good walk is like high fiber for their their bowles and bladder These organs must be trained to loosen when they go on a walk. So the corona quarrantine is definitely helping regulate their digestive tracts. They also dream about the treats that await them for some good deed. Fetching an old slipper or a stupid ball are welcome activities that are easily rewarded.
So since we are spending more time at home with our dogs, then are we adopting some of their habits? My dogs love to sleep, so during this quarrantine we may be sleeping more, ...and if we are sleeping, we may be dreaming, but these deams may quickly turns into nightmares a la Apocalypse Now. " I love the smell of napalm in the morning" by Robert Duvall wakes me in a cold sweat, and Jim Morrison's dark epic prose ..."this is the end, my only friend, the end" with a slow eerie guitar lick, a crescendo of thunderous drums has me ready to drink the kool aid for salvation or reach under the pillow for my second amendment and commit Hunter Thompson. My dogs may howl at the moon over a lost bone or a wounded paw, but I don't think they experience the same emotions from external and internal struggles that get absorb into our conscience and attack the soul. Most of us balanced free from antidepressant individuals know right from wrong--or at least we think we do. That little voice plays in our mind. It festers and gets twisted in our cerebral matter of rational thought. Reasoning and intuition stream like a firehose into our cognitive airwaves and eventually paralyzing us into utter inertia. This inertia gets complemented with an insatiable apetitie to consume media that propoganizes anything and everything that is horrid.
Which is why we love our dogs? They are immune to all the advancements good, bad, and indifferent that society throws our way. They are entirely void of such depth, which at this moment is a welcome euphoria. Suggestion: turn off the tv, put down the smart phone, and walk your dog.