When the dog bites . . .

Today I stray from Meaty Ave. and head down Dalliance Ln. Won’t you join me, please?

A Treasure of Incomparable Worth: Father

Shoulders and calves. Oily scalp and big teeth. Sense of humor and charisma. Eloquence and fetching smile. Temper. Sweet tooth. Optimism and open mind. Intelligence and sophistication. Impatience and obstinacy. Cynosural wit.

My father gave these things to me. Some I didn’t want. Many I will always be grateful for. All of them make me his daughter.

***

She will start out small. Small hands. Small feet. Small smiles in the thick of sleep. She will not stay that way, however. She will grow. And you must grow with her.

Restoration Heartware

I haven’t quite figured out what it is that drives humans toward wanting new things. Never have I come across a dog who found disfavor with its bowl because it was slightly chipped or stained. Nor have I seen a bird up and vacate its nest because the view was better from that tree. Taking it one step further, babies don’t wail louder if the blanket you swaddle them in isn’t made of cashmere or Egyptian silk. So long as the provision meets the need, all the above are content and happy. This leads me to believe that wanting new things is a learned behavior, stemming perhaps from boredom, envy, and the desire to belong. Pinterest has become a form of masochistic rehabilitation. Takes no more than a few seconds of browsing before the urge is instigated.

These two pictures best sum up how I feel about the matter: