POSSESSION AND BLISS
Day 53 Tuesday Sept 3 Zoe’s Morning Pages
Heloooooo, Zoe. I was just thinkin about what I do when
Mischa approaches me with her hands outstretched in my direction. I don’t know
what comes over me, but something enters my body and rolls me over on my back,
as soon as I see her comin!
I swear I do not do it myself. I am wonderin if I could be possessed!
Then my legs go straight up in the air and this ridiculous
look plants itself across my snout. Then she starts the butter butter thing and
it all gets really sappy from there on out. Lots a times we do it in full view
of the public. This of course is on accident. But in these instances we look
up, and oy vey! are we getting the glances packed full of attitude or what? You know come to think
of it, I see her readin all them books and makin all them drawings about the
circus, maybe she’s a magician or a witch doctor or something. It could be! And
if she got special powers it could be her who’s rollin me over on my back all
the time when her hands go wavin over me!
So I tried tellin her this last night before we went to
sleep and she looks down at me and says...”Zoe, a mind is a dangerous
thing.”
And now I am thinkin hard on that, cause I think she got a
point.
I myself am much happier when I am doing simple dog things
like: gettin my nose to the ground so I can read the mail; layin about and
watchin the ants and snails and spiders climbin through the grass; takin naps
in the sun and dreamin about rib-eyes fallin in my direction; goin for rides in
the car and feelin that cool air on my fur. When I start thinkin about what is
comin next, like if we are gettin ready for a trip or somethin, that’s when all
hell breaks loose upstairs and the old mind starts shockin and awin my blissful
existence. I could be possessed by
George Jr. and the evil
Dick Chainknee! Cause they sure was masters of instillin fear, wasn’t they?
So speakin of possessed since that seems to be the topic of
the morning...I was possessed yesterday with some orange duck that I found. It
really quacks loud when you squeeze it, and it makes Mischa chase me around the
house. And I been possessed by that brown rabbit I have that squeals when I
bite it. And oh yea that screamin monkey, yeah I had it bad for the screamin
monkey for a long time. Yesterday myy mom reminded me of the time I eviscerated
that stuffed squirrel I had in Florida. She says a real squirrel had fallen out
of a tree and into my mouth! SoI got a taste of it! I don’t remember it too
clearly on acounta I think I suffered a concussion when the thing swatted me
upside my head. Anyways she said when I came to, I found my stuffed squirrel and
just had at it until it was a pile of white cotton balls in the middle of the
living room floor. But it wasn’t living no more, it was dead in the living
room! How that works I don’t know.
The more I think about it, the more I think she is right.
The mind is a dangerous thing. If I can spend more time blissed out on nature,
and less time worrying about squirrels and trips in the car, and being perched
on the edge of cliffs and poodles and old bones, I think I’d have myself on a
better path.
Well enough of dog philoosphizin for one morning, got to
go...we’re headin north this mornin! Later.
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