On Being Happy – Dogs

So recently everything has been a bit doom, gloom and a bit more doom. With the last post being quite a big one for me but not necessarily the most cheerful post and seeing as the past 4 days I’ve been waiting to have my laptop returned to me after being attacked by a virus, I think it’s time for a bit of happiness. I was going to write about all the things that make me happy, but realised that could take a while, so instead I’m starting a series ‘On Being Happy’. People often ask me how I’m always happy, or that I’m one of the happiest people they’ve met, when in reality I’m nowhere near being happy all the time. I cry, I whine, I complain, I shout, I yell – all those standard emotions and feelings that go out of control. But there are a few things that make me happy, and of course the first one I’m started off with is dogs.

For those of you who really don’t know me, I really like dogs. Seriously, I’m going to be the dog version of the crazy cat lady. I have my future dogs and their names sorted out in my mind. I’m the one who spams all of my social media accounts far too often with pictures of my own dog because he’s just so cute and so lovely and so happy and so fluffy and I love him. Here’s the necessary picture of my dog Pete in all his glory:

Dogs in general make me happy, but Pete makes me even more so. He’s a bit of an idiot and a complete wuss (seriously, if someone was to break into my house covered in tinfoil, Pete would probably cover under the table). He loves water but can’t swim, he rolls whenever possible (even on the pebbled beach), and he slobbers whenever someone says the word ‘cheese’. Whenever I go home, it doesn’t matter if I’ve been away for a few weeks or for five minutes, I’m greeted like I’ve been gone away forever. He charges into my legs, runs around with his whole body wriggling as his tail knocks down everything within its vicinity, then he goes to find anything to bring as a present – either one of his slobbery toys, a stray sock, or even the towel we use to clean his paws when it’s muddy.

I’ve always thought that dogs are typically shown in a positive light. Like in films, how the cats are always evil and the dogs are the best friend. Or how you know someone is a bad guy if he kicks a puppy or a dog doesn’t like him. Dogs in horror films are the only ones you care about, because despite the fact that they’re barking their heads off because there’s an evil ghost out to kill everyone in the house, their idiot owners don’t listen. Scooby Doo is the best sidekick in cartoon history, Balto is the half wolf half husky who we all rooted for – need I go on?

When I see a dog in the street, I almost always ask the owner if I can say hi, and if I see a puppy I usually grab the person next to me (hopefully it’s someone I know) and point out that yes there is a puppy over there and yes we are going over there right now so I can squish him.

So that’s all I’ve got for you today about being happy. Go forth my friends, and hug some dogs. If you’re allergic, find a toy instead, and if you’re scared of dogs, then go live dangerously.

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