The “Real” Intelligencia

This is hard for me to tell. After all, I do consider myself somewhat smart, although I have had to work at it, as I am by no means naturally gifted. Some of you will laugh at me, but you will only laugh because you are a bully. Others will sympathize, and still others empathize, as they too have been suckered in by the intelligencia, but I have come to the painful realization that my dog General Sherman is smarter than I am. You shouldn’t laugh though, you stupid Bully. He is probably smarter than you, too.

Think about it. You spend a very good portion of your life at a job you deplore, working for assholes you can’t stand, doing work that… well… a dog wouldn’t do, all while waiting for the chance to retire so that you can do what my dog General Sherman already does; loaf, and fish.

This very minute he is lying on a blanket in the warm square of sunlight just inside the picture window while I type. He is not asleep, as he is plenty rested from a night in the bed curled up spooning alongside my wife. No, he is lying over there awake, waiting for his breakfast, hoping he won’t have to beg for it today. But if I do not get up soon to get it for him he will ever so slowly get himself up, stretch his whole body out lazily, and then make his way to my chair where he will lay his chin on my thigh until I get up and get his breakfast for him. After he eats he will wake up Josey Wales and together they will walk to the garage door where they will stand there stating at it, their tails swaying in hypnotic sequence, until I throw on my coat and walk them around the lake, no matter that it is 15 degrees and dropping. He will then get back in the bed with Pooky-Bear while I shower before heading off to that yucky job that I really only need because someone must pay for the dog’s bi-monthly $260 vet bills, his $200 monthly spa day, his weekly $60 bag of “Veterinary Select Royal Canin Protein Enriched Food”, and the $50 a week worth of Greenies and Peanut Butter Bones my wife insists that he must have, just as I ( she claims) require my 1/5 of single malt scotch. It is a good argument. One I will never win.

Yes, life is good for the canine intelligencia… I only wish I was smart enough to get in on the gig.