Still Here

My dog has this recurring conundrum where she thinks every time that I leave the room I will not be returning.

And I'm sure this worries her more from a sustenance perspective than a companionship sort of way.

I always come back and her simple dog brain is all happy again and everything is heavenly in the world.  Yet the reality is that I probably just went pee, or grabbed a beer, or went shopping for turnips, and just ended up walking back into the room afterwards.

Note 1: I just mentioned a turnip. Think about it.  When's the last time you walked into a grocery store and said, "Hey, there's a turnip!"  That's what I thought.  Never.  The turnip is just a propaganda vegetable made up by the Republican media used to instill fear in the hearts of regular grocery store users who know that there are really only like four or five vegetables that are edible by man.

But she sees me come back into the room and for the split-second that the world was over for her, it was rightly resolved and everything was back to the natural order of things as quickly as it started.  This is, after all, a dog brain.

And I feel magnificent.

"What's that, tiny dog?  You felt like you couldn't survive without the likes of ME?!"

I usually yell out the "me" part, that's why it's in bold.

I'm only going to briefly touch on the part that I talk to the dog because I feel like any self-respecting pet owner should indulge in small conversations with their animal from time to time.

Note 2: I'm a loser.

So here we are, you and me.  And I am immediately sorry for you.  You don't deserve this.  Neither do I, but yet here we are!

There was a time, not so long ago and not in a galaxy not so far away (I'm lost), where a burgeoning young journalist could go out and report back to their newspaper that Team A beat Team B by a score of X to Z.  And the universe thrived and little teddy bear-like creatures would come out of their hovels and sing in harmony!

But, this is in no way a "you did this!" piece.  This is a "hey, this guy is still here" piece.  I'm writing.  What for?  No idea.  There's no agenda here.  There's no advertising here (I could get them, shut up!).

It's you, me, and the loyal ass dog who needs to make sure I am not leaving the room for good this time.

I need a beer.