Dog days are over

By campodegelo

I’ve made my decision.

Next life I want to be a dog, but not a simple one, more like a pampered dog.
Staying around wagging my tail, begging for food, drawing attention, being told off here and there, but having a life of stewardship and perks. All I have to do is sleep, eat and jump at my owner when he gets home, putting up everyone’s mood.

But what if my past-life Karma put my canine self into not-so-friendly places?

If I am a German dog, I will have to be disciplined for 3 weeks, so I can walk in public not showing excessive happiness.

In South America I would probably have some freedom. No owner, no house, no guarantee of food, but with the world to break. Each post would be a new achievement and every corner could be my bed. And how not to love the television for dogs, which is not a form of media propagating device, but an oven with transparent glass and spinning roasted chickens. Sweet illusion I’ll get one, but let me try.

If I am born in India, I will not be a God. Even the rat bastard is divine over there, but not the dog. Most likely I would have to dispute my food with crows and other animals in the garbage, but I could have my own gang.

If I am raised in China or Korea it might be that I turn someone’s dinner, but at least so I would serve some greater purpose.

Dog days are over!

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