Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Laughing by myself

I love seeing people happy.

I love watching Ryley walk on a stage to perform like that's what he was born to do.

I loved watching that hula hoop dance, and actually being able to see how much she loved doing that on her face as the music kicked up.

I loved seeing my dog's eyes light up when we got to the pond and I picked up a stick.

For anybody who hasn't had the chance to see an animal's eyes light up...I pity you. It's definitely something worth experiencing.

I love talking to my dog. Not because he think he actually listens or understands. Scratch that. I know he listens.

Holy crap. This is the first time I've realized something in the middle of writing a blog. Go me.

That is the reason I like talking to him. Is because he listens. Not to the words, or the emotions that come with them. He just listens to my voice.

Now that I know what I'm talking about, I suddenly don't know how to express it.

When we're at home, and he's laying on the floor, I'll say his name and he'll look up at me. When he's on my bed, and I tell him to move, he'll get off, but when I just tell him to scoot over, that's exactly what he'll do. When he's in the middle of drinking, I'll talk to him, and he'll wag his tail. When I call him on walks, he'll come to me. When I tell him to wait at a road, he won't cross until I tell him. He never runs over to other dogs until I say he can go say hi.

He trusts me. Where I go, he'll follow. When we're wrestling and he accidentally nips me, I'll exclaim, and he'll immediately get all quiet and lay on the floor, and most often nudge me with his nose.

I'm getting off topic. I just love him so much.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that when I talk, he listens to my voice. And I know he does. By everything that I can't even explain to somebody who hasn't lived with him for 7 years.

Remember when I said that I had just realized something while blogging? Maybe I did up there...but now I've lost it.

I love thunder, but it scares him. I just heard him jump onto my bed as that last roll of thunder came around. =)

I'm trying to remember exactly what I figured out, but it's not coming. Something about him listening...something something...never judging...something something...never thinking about what I say at all, just being happy that I'm there...

That's definitely a big part of it. He doesn't care what stupid decisions I made that day, or who I upset, or whether I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. He's just always happy to see me, and happy when I give him attention, and come home at the end of the day and let him up on my bed for the night. Even when I'm in a horrible mood, and take it out on him, and yell and send him downstairs. Whether it's in the next three hours, or the next two seconds, when I eventually call him back up, he's not mad at me for doing that. He doesn't sulk because I was mean, or hold it against me, or anything. He's just happy that I'm happy again.

I keep trying to explain what I feel when I talk to him, but I just can't. I get flashes of the feeling, and when I try to write it down, it's gone.

I love him. A lot.

I think people need to be a lot more like dogs.

I also love it when I'm walking by myself and I'm really happy, and I can't help but smile, or laugh. I don't care what people around me may think. Why should you bottle up such a great feeling?

Speaking of which, there are moments like that. When I'm in a class, or rehearsal, and suddenly all my good feelings inside of me just seem to expand, and I have the sudden urge to just laugh and let them all out so I can enjoy life.

But that's never the right time. So I always have to take a deep breath in, to expand my chest and make more room for all that joy, and just hold it for a while before slowly exhaling.

Those are good times.

The world needs less pessimism. I can't stand it.


"And we watched the whole thing from a safe and secure environment."

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