I want to be a dog.
A cute dog.
A dog that has pretty eyes that can give I am cute, pathetic, feed me the last piece of your steak kind of look.
I want to be able to lay around, lick my butt and have it be a normal thing.
I want to bask in the sun, tongue out, lounging.
Be able to get spurts of energy and run around in circles. Chasing my tail and the accomplishment of the day being when I finally get it.
Eating. Bits of food from my adoring owner, whining, giving my “I have never been fed in my entire life” eyes.
I will get scratched daily, as my foot thumps like the rabbit from Bambi, my head leaning into the scratch until my head reaches the ground.
I want to be thrilled by staring at trees all day long as those stupid squirells beg me to chase them up the tree. I want to bug the cat and chase it down the hall.
Being excited to go for a ride, my ears flapping as I hang my head out the window, smelling all the other dogs, and fast-food restaurants.
The “what a cute dog” comments as I walk proudly after I just got bathed.
The baths and after I roll around in the dirt, my owner yelling, but truly feeling free.
The squeaky toys, stuffed animals, and balls that contain treats that truly get me frustrated.
And at the end of the night, crawling under the sheets up to my owner, getting multiple kisses and a good dog.
Feeling that I am wanted and I have the responsibility to watch over someone.
I want to be a dog.
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