“… And I’ve Been Working Like A Dog”?

Today has been a beautiful day.  A warm day that calls you to get out of the four walls of your house and lazily spread your body under the sun savoring the joys of an iced coffee and a cigarette.

So… there we are, at that beautiful cafe, sitting side by side, sipping our coffee, relaxing under the warm sunrays. Our minds on hold and our sunglasses allowing us to “scan” the area for whatever we might find “amusing” without getting detected by each other’s ultra-sensitive sensors. And while hubby is obviously busy staring at that blonde’s assets (which, though I will never say this to him, and just between you and me, I stared too because… well… she was hard to ignore), my eyes focus on – 

The stray dogs. Yes, we have plenty of them here. Apparently we also have lots of fathers and mothers who wake up one day and decide that their precious little children do not need their pet toys any longer, so, what do we do with our dogs? Abandon them out in the streets and hope they will be well fed by restaurants’ left overs. But, hey, this is a whole different topic and I have no wish to go there now.

These stray dogs are taken care of by the state. They are all being watched by vets and most of them get so much to eat I bet you people are stealing from their dishes. Today… four of them are laying at the park, paying absolutely no attention to noone and nothing. They enjoy the sun, their round bellies up and down, legs spread open, eyes shut. If you go close, they just raise their head, give you a “what the fuck do you want? Can’t you see you’re interrupting my sleep?” look and turn the other way. A fifth one is marking his territory before he joins the rest of his gang. A sixth and seventh one, the ones I suppose that have the most corrupted morals and ethics, ignore our presence and swankily engage into unmentionable activities.

And there I am humming the Beatles’ “A Hard Day’s Night” and thinking to myself “… and I’ve been working like a dog”? What the hell were they thinking of ? I don’t see any dog working.  I don’t know whether there is a hidden message behind those lyrics that I’m supposed to read and, duh, I don’t, but if you ask me, it should be the other way around. Dogs should have made a song saying “… and I’ve been working like those idiots / who call theselves humans / and think they’re smart enough / yeah right / my ass and wagging tail”.  Because look at them… just look at them. They do not have to punch a card every morning at fucking 7 a.m., they do not have a boss barking and passing out orders, they get all the food they need free, they get all the perfect sunny spots, not to mention they delectate the company of a mate whenever and wherever they wish instead of honey, we got to wait till our parents leave, and no, we can’t use the bed, the strings are broken and are shoving up my spine… darling!

Today has been a very significant day for me. I guess it’s an important day that has probably put its stamp on the rest of my life and my humble existence. Because from this day forward, each and every time I’m asked what I want to be in my next life, my answer will be a dog. A stray dog. One of those stray dogs I saw this morning at the park. And technically, yes, you would then have every right to call me a bitch.

Posted by HoneyBunny