The Philosophy of Dogs and How it Relates to College Football. And Me.

"You guys wanna go for a walk?  Huh?  You wanna go for a walk?"

"Walk" is a magic word to dogs.  It hearkens adventure, new smells, and a plethora of places to pee. Saying that magic word makes my dogs jump out of their skin with excitement.  Especially last night.

I tweaked my back Monday, ironically enough by playing with the sogs, so I hadn't been able to take them for a walk for the last several days.  Exercise is part of their normal routine.  We walk for awhile and then I take them off leash to chase the ball, each other, and the occasional squirrel (who intenionally bait them to then mock their inability to climb trees).

So after a couple days off I said word, leashed them up, marched them through the door, and proceeded out at Warp Factor .00000001

Bad backs are bitch.

As we walked the dogs kept looking up to me as if to say, "Really?  You got us excited for this?" and the more blunt, "What. The. Hell!"  But the adjusted and enjoyed their time regardless.

Tonight was much the same, except I'm happy to say I doubled my speed all the way up to Warp Factor .00000002!  I also was able to take some tennis balls tonight and could roll it for them.  I forgot the Chuck-It, so rolling was I could do.  So here they are at the end of a dissappointing walk, with dissappointing ball-throwing going on.

It didn't affect their enthusiasm in the least.  Just because it didn't meet their expactations didn't change the fact that there was a round, fuzzy prey item to chase.  And chase they did!

How different from us.  If you've ever followed College Football, and in particular the Bowls, your familiar with the unfairness of the BCS.  Every year, someone gets jobbed.  Someone, who everyone agrees should be playing in the big bowl game, isn't.So after much shouting, wailing, and gnashing of teeth of how they ought to be in the Big game instead of the Little game, they go out and lay an egg against Bumsqueak U.

The response of course is that the right decision was obviously made, because they lost to an inferior team.  The reality though is that players couldn't get themselves up for a game they were actually playing, with the obvious result.

Dogs don't know how to do that.  They will chase that ball whether hurled with a Chuck-It or gingerly rolled 20 feet with just as much passion.  And they will keep on doing it until they are simply to tired to run.  Because they are in the moment, they aren't encumbered by where they should or should not be.  They are, where they are.

Where I am, I unfortunately have to admit, is far closer to that dissappointed College Team than I am to the dogs,  And not just because I'm carrying too much weight and hurt.  The goals I set for myself, so nebulous back then, have not been met.  But that doesn't mean I haven't accomplished quite a bit.  It means that I am judging myself off of old, uncontemplated goals and expectations instead of honestly evaluating where I am, and where I want to go.

I am here, and I want to be there.  The question is, "Do I wanna go for a walk?"