Life sometimes is disinterested. I discovered this today after reading some things that got my mind going. I go to the porch to have a cigarette and sort the things floating around my head into a stream of consciousness , and I notice my dog has followed me out. Dynomite looks at me. His eyes are a bright gold in the otherwise blackness of his fur that he has blended into the darkness before the stairs that those eyes, glinting, are the only thing of his clearly defined in the moonlight as his own. There seems to be a bit of intelligence in these eyes, like maybe he is too brooding, over his own personal doggy woes and perplexities (I got him from the pound- who knows what his life was before I got him) that I felt a bond for his brightness, and asked him a question.
“Dyno, what is mommy is a convenience to daddy? Does Donny really love me?” Dyno cocks his head to the side, lifts an ear to hear me better. I feel like an idiot, but Dyno is one of the few friends I have in this godforsaken town, and I have no one to spill all of my crazy ass thoughts to. I mean, yeah, there’s Donny, but he gets kinda angry when I ask him 700 times why he loves me, and he doesn’t understand that sometimes, it isn’t really about what he’s doing wrong. More, it’s that I’m looking for reasons to love myself, and I scream back at myself , my dear, I’m afraid there’s one good reason I cannot find. So I turn to the one person who has always seemed to love me the most, even when I can’t stand, personally, to be around me, and that actually makes me angry. Who is he to tell me I’m so great? Why is he the only person who sees such great things in me? I am a caustic person. I am too stubborn. I cause myself pain and anguish for reasons I cannot understand, and sometimes, I seem to enjoy it. Why does he love so unconditionally something so crudely made? I can’t say those words to him, for fear that he’ll contradict me, and for a trepidation that he won’t. My lips and tongue are still around him on that thought. I don’t like showing my fears to well, anyone, so I swallow my tongue, and the words get lost somewhere in my stomach. But every now and then they boil over. Insecurities invade like the Trojans fighting the Greek of my mind. And sometime after that, I break down. And then I stand like a jackass with a cigarette, asking my dog’s smart eyes questions.
“Dyno, what am I doing with my life?” Dyno’s eyes turn toward the stairs, moving like fireflies. He takes a few steps into the light, yawns, then lazily scratches behind his ear. I have to laugh. Whether his sharp little gilded eyes understood a goddamn word I was saying, he was sure making his commentary on my thoughts.
“Okay you little shit. How about puppy snack? You understand that?” Dyno’s ears perk up and he does the same dance he did at the pound that made me take him home. He jumps up on his hinds legs and pumps his arms up and down, smiling his little doggy smile knowing no one can say no to his dance. I guess sometimes, life would rather have the finer things, and right now, it wants a puppy snack.
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