“A dog doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, big or small, young or old. She doesn’t care if you’re not smart, not popular, not a good joke-teller, not the best athlete, nor the best-looking person. To your dog, you are the greatest, the smartest, the nicest human being who was ever born. You are her friend and protector.”
~Louis Sabin
There’s no way it can be February. Why? Because I’m in Indiana, have yet to get snow, and it’s 60 degrees and sunny every day. My Easter lilies are blooming for crying out loud!
He says we’re going to have more winter. The turd doesn’t know that in Indiana, our winter hasn’t even started yet!
Another way I can tell it can’t really be February? Those pesky neighbors! Oh yah, when we’re freezing here with blowing snow and blustery wind — they call twice a day to tell us how they are wearing shorts and sitting under the air conditioner in sunny Florida. But not lately. They’ve only called a couple times in the past MONTH! Nothing to brag about me thinks.
If I am a type A personality — Perry is most definitely a type Y or Z. If that isn’t a type — someone needs to put a name to it. I’m really fortunate to work with someone with a Y/Z personality, because another A-type would have quit long ago or would be dead by now. I have ZERO tolerance for stupidity and have forgotten the meaning of patience. I obsess with details and work crazy hours. I write notes and stickies and run 3 calendars all at once.
No matter how wired I am, Perry is the same constant dude who never gets mad, never loses his cool, and never gets shook. He smiles when I know he can’t really mean it — and by looking, you would believe it’s sincere. I’m so type-A that sometimes it ticks me off that he isn’t more like me, even though I would never, ever want him to be (because then he would quit or I’d have to kill him).
Look at your feet. You are standing in the sky. When we think of the sky, we tend to look up, but the sky actually begins at the earth.
~Diane Ackerman
Once you’ve finished looking at your feet, check out this short video on youtube — sh*t girls say. It will make you laugh… even if you’re a dude with a limited sense of humor.
I log into Amazon.com in search of a book. For the record, I ordinarily gravitate toward some kind of crime novel. I have helped Kay Scarpetta via Patricia Cornwell solve some pretty complicated mysteries, and often feel like I’m actually in Patterson’s women’s ‘murder club’.
But this time I saw a book cover with a dog on it, and I snatched it up. “The Art of Racing in the Rain” by Garth Stein was incredible. And I hated it. Really. Hated. It.
There is something wrong with me. I can read about people being murdered and frantically turn page after page in a quest for the killer, but let a dog suffer and I’m a mess. Throw in the fact that the book is narrated by Enzo, the dog, (who is one fine hound but doesn’t hold a candle to my Libby), and I couldn’t even see to read ½ the time because big ole’ tears kept welling up in my eyes.
Enzo has a whole lot to teach readers about being human. And about fears and loving someone with cancer and hope and champions. And that zebras are evil.
Read this book with a box of Kleenex and thank me later. But please note — this book isn’t for everyone… Libby and Gracie both gave “The Art of Racing in the Rain” poor reviews accompanied by a 1 of 5 star ranking.
