Dogs and more dogs and humans

So, maybe the animal connections I seem to enjoy and accept are acting as a gateway back into human interaction. I can't live in a vacuum when it comes to some things. I recently saw on Facebook that one of my neighbors was re-homing his great Pyrenees dog, Sheila. This is that lovely white dog that has paid me a couple of visits in the past. The one of whom Sharon said, "If she comes back over again, I say we keep her."

Well, I couldn't bear the thought of this dog going away to an unknown and distant place. I considered adopting her, but my common sense kicked in. This is a long haired white dog and I have mostly unirrigated, unmanaged property with lots of stickers. I barely wash or groom the two dogs I already have. It would be selfish to take her and not provide the extra attention that she'd need.

And so I thought of my neighbor, Bob. Has irrigated property. Has other animals that he treats very well. Needs a guard for his livestock. Check, check, check. I inserted myself into the conversation and decided to ask Bob if he'd like a dog. It turned out to be the perfect match. The dog is happy in her new environment and the old owners can visit because it's just down the street. And I can visit, too.

This whole matchmaking event had the side benefit of making me interact with other human beings. I got a feeling of being valuable, making some difference in the lives of two sets of people and a dog. In other words, I did some good in the world. My life has meaning. And it wasn't a purely selfish act. I actually was thinking of the dog's best interest, and of helping my friend, Bob.

Another dog-related event happened today which involved the little escapee from last week. I was walking past the house from which the puppies had followed me before and, yep...

...this little guy came after me again. This time I kept walking til I got to the end of the street, where I saw a neighbor and his family outside. I knew the puppy would be distracted by the two dogs that these people had and I could make my get away at some point. I asked them if they minded distracting the little guy for a minute and I told them the little fellow's history. Sure enough, the grandpa offered to drive the pup back down the road and deposit him over the fence.

That's just another incident where a puppy was an interface to human interaction, which I normally would have avoided.

The little LED light has been doing it's best to get my attention during the process, as if to say, "Yeah, more stuff like that."

Meanwhile my farts are communicating to me that I need to be done blogging. And the LED concurs. Man, I must be losing my mind, talking to light bulb and listening to farts for advice. I don't think I will miss it all that much, though. (My mind, that is.) "Don't think, just do," was a favorite Yoda-like saying of Sharon's. I'm finally putting it to use and giving my mind a rest.