dog-training days by andrew worthington

I am a dog training myself. I want to be aware when I smile that I am smiling but not too aware that it becomes a hindrance but aware enough so that it doesn’t become habitual. I want to keep in mind that I am a dog and that my smile isn’t too noticeable, at least not according to the definition of a smile. There is very little change in lip movement in my smile. Or, in that case, there is very little change in the lip movement of any dogs. Still, it is important for me to keep in mind that a smile is still readily appreciable to most viewers, dogs or non-dogs, even in spite of the modesty of my lip movement. Panting shows excitement and excitement is often happiness and when it is not happiness it is either anxiety or evil which are the flip sides of a coin with uniform sides, three uniform sides, at least two probably three uniform sides. I need to breathe. I need to be aware of my breathing but its not something I want to think about too much because if I do that I might get too in tune with it and then I might get tired of it and annoyed and stop breathing. I am surprised when I see these dogs that pant all the time. They have no manners. No respect. No respect for anyone or for themselves. They go about their existence as if they are meteors going as they please ready to smash into whatever planet or star they want without any concern for the possibility of life that could die from their recklessness. I know, I know, I have given a meteor agency. But it is just an analogy, not practical. Not anything. I would very much like to smack it. I would very much like to smack it in the ass. Smack it in the ass with my paw.
 
 
Andrew Worthington lives in Harlem and can be found at fuckingbigthoughts.blogspot.com