Single-minded purpose
John has a new dog, which means he’s going through this phase where he spends a lot of time bending and petting and going” Yesss! That’s a GOOD boy!” and otherwise practically awarding him the Mahavir Chakra for achievement, such as not going peepee on his pillow.
His name is Bruno, which is a more traditional bear’s name, but it describes him very well. Most dogs are earnest, which is why most people like them. (I once had a dog named Earnest, come to think of it, I once knew a lawyer named Earnest too!).
You can say any stupid thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, “Dammit, You’re RIGHT! I just never thought of that!” So we think dogs are understanding, loving, and compassionate, and we overlook the fact that they spend the bulk of their free time circling around other dogs to see which one can sniff the other more number of times in their personal region.
John is not sure yet whether Bruno has a working brain. You can’t tell, early on with dogs. Years ago when Naren got Dipy, everyone thought he was really smart, because he was somewhat of a bull terrier who had this extremely alert look. At first we took this to mean that he was absorbing every detail of his surroundings with his keen senses and analyzing it with lightning speed, but it turned out to be his way of expressing the concept: “When do we eat?”
Dipy would be sitting in the lawn looking very sharp and a squirrel would scamper right by him. Normal street dogs hundreds of feet away would detect the squirrel, and would bark vigorously, and we humans would also detect the squirrel, and shout helpfully: “Look! Dipy! Squirrel! Catch the squirrel!” And after a few seconds of delay, during which his ears would send the message by inland letter to his brain that something was going on, Dipy would turn in the exact opposite direction from wherever the squirrel was, adopt a stiff watchdog-in-readiness pose, and go: “When do we eat?”
I used to think Collies were smart dogs, after watching all those TV serials of Lassie. Lassie looked super-intelligent, partly because the family of humans she lived with was made up of button-heads. Whenever no one was around, one was always getting pinned under a tractor, and Lassie always ran back to the farmhouse to alert someone. She would whine and tug at their trousers or skirts, and they would waste time saying things like: “Looks like there’s something wrong? Does Lassie want us to follow her? What wrong Lassie girl?” like this was the very first time it happened instead of at least once a week ( not counting reruns) With all the time they spent pinned under the tractor, I wonder how they managed to grow anything on the farm. They probably got by on earthquake or flood relief support that Lassie filled out the applications for.
Lassie is also the name of Bruno’s German Shepherd mom, a real gentle motherly type who doesn’t sleep. Post lunch she lies by the divan in the living room and then she scratches herself, engaging in loud personal hygiene. Then she thinks,” Maybe I can go out!” and she pads across to the door ,which of course is closed- it is always closed mid-afternoon; even the flies have learned this by now – and she looks at it, in case there’s been some mistake. Then she senses, Sneha sleeping on the divan, and she has the most innovative idea she has ever thought of, which is: Maybe Sneha will let me out!” So she pads over to Sneha and licks her in the face, using the same tongue she uses for hygiene, and Sneha says, “Dammit, Lassie! Go away!” So she lies down for one minute, which is how long it takes for her lone functioning brain cell to forget everything that ever happened to her since she was born. And then she starts again: SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH LICK LICK LICK, PAD PAD PAD, and (think) PAD PAD PAD TONGUE “DAMMIT LASSIE GO AWAY!” (pause) SCRATCH SCRATCH......
John doesn’t know yet about Bruno. One day he will give him the dog intelligence test, by hiding the ball under the blanket, and hope that Bruno at least finds the blanket.
Okay okay Indu, Manuela, Arvind and all you dog lovers out there, I don’t want you sending me a bunch of threatening letters, asking how dare I say your dogs are stupid when your dog can add, subtract, cook a gourmet dinner for ten, etc. Please note :I never said YOUR dog is stupid. I said John’s dog might be. I feel Bruno can’t be too intelligent, because here is John reading this article aloud, and despite the fact that he’s lying at Johns feet, he’s still wagging his tail and going:”When do we eat?”
John has a new dog, which means he’s going through this phase where he spends a lot of time bending and petting and going” Yesss! That’s a GOOD boy!” and otherwise practically awarding him the Mahavir Chakra for achievement, such as not going peepee on his pillow.
His name is Bruno, which is a more traditional bear’s name, but it describes him very well. Most dogs are earnest, which is why most people like them. (I once had a dog named Earnest, come to think of it, I once knew a lawyer named Earnest too!).
You can say any stupid thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, “Dammit, You’re RIGHT! I just never thought of that!” So we think dogs are understanding, loving, and compassionate, and we overlook the fact that they spend the bulk of their free time circling around other dogs to see which one can sniff the other more number of times in their personal region.
John is not sure yet whether Bruno has a working brain. You can’t tell, early on with dogs. Years ago when Naren got Dipy, everyone thought he was really smart, because he was somewhat of a bull terrier who had this extremely alert look. At first we took this to mean that he was absorbing every detail of his surroundings with his keen senses and analyzing it with lightning speed, but it turned out to be his way of expressing the concept: “When do we eat?”
Dipy would be sitting in the lawn looking very sharp and a squirrel would scamper right by him. Normal street dogs hundreds of feet away would detect the squirrel, and would bark vigorously, and we humans would also detect the squirrel, and shout helpfully: “Look! Dipy! Squirrel! Catch the squirrel!” And after a few seconds of delay, during which his ears would send the message by inland letter to his brain that something was going on, Dipy would turn in the exact opposite direction from wherever the squirrel was, adopt a stiff watchdog-in-readiness pose, and go: “When do we eat?”
I used to think Collies were smart dogs, after watching all those TV serials of Lassie. Lassie looked super-intelligent, partly because the family of humans she lived with was made up of button-heads. Whenever no one was around, one was always getting pinned under a tractor, and Lassie always ran back to the farmhouse to alert someone. She would whine and tug at their trousers or skirts, and they would waste time saying things like: “Looks like there’s something wrong? Does Lassie want us to follow her? What wrong Lassie girl?” like this was the very first time it happened instead of at least once a week ( not counting reruns) With all the time they spent pinned under the tractor, I wonder how they managed to grow anything on the farm. They probably got by on earthquake or flood relief support that Lassie filled out the applications for.
Lassie is also the name of Bruno’s German Shepherd mom, a real gentle motherly type who doesn’t sleep. Post lunch she lies by the divan in the living room and then she scratches herself, engaging in loud personal hygiene. Then she thinks,” Maybe I can go out!” and she pads across to the door ,which of course is closed- it is always closed mid-afternoon; even the flies have learned this by now – and she looks at it, in case there’s been some mistake. Then she senses, Sneha sleeping on the divan, and she has the most innovative idea she has ever thought of, which is: Maybe Sneha will let me out!” So she pads over to Sneha and licks her in the face, using the same tongue she uses for hygiene, and Sneha says, “Dammit, Lassie! Go away!” So she lies down for one minute, which is how long it takes for her lone functioning brain cell to forget everything that ever happened to her since she was born. And then she starts again: SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH LICK LICK LICK, PAD PAD PAD, and (think) PAD PAD PAD TONGUE “DAMMIT LASSIE GO AWAY!” (pause) SCRATCH SCRATCH......
John doesn’t know yet about Bruno. One day he will give him the dog intelligence test, by hiding the ball under the blanket, and hope that Bruno at least finds the blanket.
Okay okay Indu, Manuela, Arvind and all you dog lovers out there, I don’t want you sending me a bunch of threatening letters, asking how dare I say your dogs are stupid when your dog can add, subtract, cook a gourmet dinner for ten, etc. Please note :I never said YOUR dog is stupid. I said John’s dog might be. I feel Bruno can’t be too intelligent, because here is John reading this article aloud, and despite the fact that he’s lying at Johns feet, he’s still wagging his tail and going:”When do we eat?”
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