Spring, God, and Dogs

Well, for a few days here its been quite beautiful! The weather has improved to a much more enjoyable state of 30's and 4o's. The snow that was on the ground is now melting and he grass is looking semi-green now instead of ugly pee yellow.

Today I even heard a bird chirping in the distance. It was lovely and it felt like spring. With the sound of the snow melting and the light breeze, (which wasn't so light last night). And even a light fresh scent in the air. It was wonderful.

Except the one thing I completely hate about days like this and weeks like this. The snow melts and uncovers what the nice long winter was covering up.

Dog Poop.

I compleltly hate picking up after the dog, and its all melty and gross. And some is still stuck to the ice, so I can't get it completely off the ground. And I get so irritated and look at the dog with an angry glare, but its not like he can help it. Buddy's only a dog after all. It's not like he planned it, and I'm sure (since he loves me so much) if he knew how to use the bathroom he would, but its sort of impossible.

I envy him somedays. What a lucky creature. I mean think about it. What does he do?

He:

sleeps

eats

poops

pants (disturbingly terrible breath)

and on occasion makes some sort of grunting noise as a type of "protection" if there is an unknown sound outside.

Why on earth did God make dogs? What is their point?

So I thought about that while I did the incredibly boring, irritating and tideous task of cleaning up after him. Buddy knows everything about me. I swear we have the exact same eyes. He is my protector. My best friend. My companion. My entertainment. My reason to excersize.

I remember the day at the Humane Society when we went to get him. Except we didn't know we were going to even find a dog worth taking home. The moment I saw him, I knew. That is my dog. He was perfect! I remember how jealous I was when another family was looking at him and I am so thankful they realized they weren't quite ready to move on from their old dog.

We took him home that day! And that week I had my wisdom teeth taken out and the dog wouldn't leave my room. I don't know if it was because he thought I was his only ally at that point, or because he sensed my need for companionship.

My senior year of highschool was a challenge for me. A lot of things happened, including the increase in hours I worked and the decrease in friends I had, but I always had my dog. Buddy was always there waiting for me. He slept in my room, woke me up at 5am to go outside and be fed and was there wagging his tail when I returned home. He was there when it was as if no one else was.

So why did God make dogs? For people like me, who need a companion, an ally or a friend. For people like me who just need to be heard and not responded to. I think thats why God made dogs.

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