dog hooky

So last night when I was driving home from my faster than lightning, speed history mammogram, 12 minutes from car park, to boob squeeze, to driving home, (seriously fast!) I was thinking that lately I ‘ve been in a funk, for good reasons, but even for a socio like me, just too much funk.  I thought about writing something more lighthearted, fun and happy.

So, I ordered some sushi, not from the good expensive place near the Dr office, cause the wait was too long, (45 minutes to roll up some rice and fish, really!) but from the good cheap place, cause by the time I drove home, I would make their short 20-minute wait time. I got my sushi, sat down to eat and thought.  Happy?  Happy thoughts? Happy things?  I got nothing.  Googled, happy topics to write about. Got this list:

1. Happiness and money- I like money, maybe
2. What makes you happy? – I don’t know Google, that’s why I asked you
3. Your favorite memory- way too much thinking required
4. Emotions of anger and happiness- Google, I said happy not anger, but while I’m here, emotions make me angry!
5. Happiness and mortality- that’s depressing, why did that come up?
6. How can you encourage happiness- I don’t know Google, I’m asking you that
7. Sources of happiness- hmmmm, not sure about this one
8. The importance of happiness- sure, ok, yes, I guess happiness is important
9. What song makes you happy- “If you’re happy and you know it?” I don’t know

There was one more option, “One more,”  said Google.  But at this point, I was more unhappy than when I started cause now, I was full of sushi and not full of happy ideas, so I did not click the “One more” button. Google failure!

Let’s try this again!  Happy?  Happy thoughts? Happy things? I got nothing. I went to bed.

In the middle of the night, I realized the good cheap sushi place was now going to be called the meh cheap sushi place because my body decided it didn’t like the meh sushi and kept me up with a stomachache, gurgling noises and eventually rectum-ally  (is that a word?) expelled the sushi.  

Ok, so this morning when I woke up, my first thought after I assessed my meh sushi situation, was today is Monday #3, known to everyone else as Wednesday, lol. For me it felt like another Monday, like a not-so-funny-my-life-version of Groundhog Day, which is by the way my favorite movie of all time!  Who doesn’t love Bill Murray, driving a car with a Groundhog muttering, “Don’t drive angry!” OMG, so funny, watch it if you never have, it will seriously change your life.  But back to today.

At this point, you might be thinking, where’s the dog hooky.  So, after much ado about nothing, “Dog hooky” is my happy thought.

It started with a simple but elegant pic sent to me of a beautiful little dog who in her own doggy words, “didn’t want to go to work today” . Yes, that is her pic above! Next comes the mostly actual conversation via text that followed with some four people that I might or might not work with, but of course they have no names and any resemblance to anyone living is purely coincidental.

“Same, dog with no name, same.” (As in I don’t want to go to work either)

“Me neither. Let’s play dog hooky.”

“Let’s substitute our pets for that fictional big meeting we have today.”

“Yes, show up with our pets taking our place on camera.”

“We’ll go to the park.  Chase some squirrels, pee on everything, eat dirty stuff on the ground while our dog mom yells, “what is that you’re eating?” It will be glorious!”

“Don’t forget we won’t pay bills and nap all day!”

“Yes! No bills!”

“Yes! And smell butts!”

WAIT! RECORD SCRATCH……. HOLD THE PHONE

“No butt smelling!”

“All I need to think about is where’s my treat?  Do you have a treat?”

“Oh, that’s where you draw the line? Butt sniffing? But peeing on everything and eating dirty stuff is ok?”

“I suppose humping our doggie beds is out?”

“What about licking our private parts?”

“Maybe I’ll stay human, on second thought…yeah, I’ll go to work today!”

“We can hump our stuffed animals or people’s legs all day!  Just no butt smelling! And no kids.”

This reminded me of a story.  Let’s go into the wayback machine and talk about it. When my kids were little, my sister had a dog, well she had two different dogs that did this.  HUMP. But these dogs (at different times) always chose the same kid to hump. Now let me make this a little more obvious, I have 4 kids and the first dog only tried to hump the one kid, every time, all  the time!  Maybe this kid smelled bad or potentially good (from a dog’s point of view). I didn’t know what was happening. The first dog, his name might have been Moe, followed that kid around from the minute we walked in her house to the minute we left.  Sniffing, tail wagging, excited to see us, or really maybe just that kid, lol. It was only a matter of time before the dog went in and got the kid. You know in the worst possible way.  The kid was about 4 or 5 and Moe was a large black lab.  You get the visual. Funny, not funny. Terrifying for the kid, but funny to the other kids (and I have to admit, the adults. )  Well, a few years later, the same kid was older, dog number one had crossed the rainbow bridge and dog number two, he was also a rather large dog who might have been named Bomber, took a liking to that same kid, in the same way, and did the same thing! I don’t need to spell it out, obscenely funny, but still not to the kid!

At this point, I can’t remember where I was going with this story, but it’s funny and I am definitely in a happier state of mind than my usual socio way.  So, it’s all good, I guess. HA!

To end this random story of is it funny or not? Let’s circle back to Google.

Google, next time I ask you to tell me some happy topics to write about, don’t forget “playing dog hooky” and “dogs humping on hump day!” Add these to your list! And for those of you who might be wondering if I did click the “One more”  button? Of course, I just did and here’s what it said:

10. Your favorite quote- for today only, it might be, “It’s a dog’s life!”

PS- Have a great hump day, Monday #3 or Wednesday, whichever one represents how you are feeling today.