From the Desk of Colby, Resident Canine
Truly, I will never understand human beings.
Before you protest, let me state that I am not prejudiced—my closest companion is a human! But their mannerisms and idiosyncrasies never cease to baffle me. Just the other day, mother asked, “Who’s a good girl?” Context led me to believe it was myself, but the repetition of her inquiry gave me pause. Who, indeed, is a good girl, if neither her nor I?
Several times a week, I escort mother to the place called “TruBrand.” I do not mind these trips, though they are a bit dull. The greenery is pleasant and the refreshments are adequate, but mother’s companions are far too busy to accompany me on my desired two-hour constitutionals out of doors. I cannot understand their desire to work indoors when the wilds await our adventuring noses, but, dear reader, their actions provide much for us to ponder on.
A typical day at TruBrand starts as such: mother forces me away from my rightful duty of hunting the squirrel menace that haunts this nation and locks us both in the “office” with her human companions. They greet me heartily, clearly recognizing my canine superiority, and I perform my ritual of tricks and dances to entertain their feeble minds. Afterwards I am gifted with the finest treats and I leave them to their business.
Though the task may seem beneath me, I take time to visit every companion during our confinement. It is the season of giving, after all, so what better way to celebrate Yuletide and the coming of a new year than to grace the humans with my presence?
The younger humans are quite adept at the act of ear-scratching and seem quite pleased when given the chance to stroke my fur and compliment my appearance. Such matters are trivial to the heightened canine mind, but there is no harm in letting the youths fawn over me.
Every day the humans seem to be doing something new, bustling about with ideas of “branding” and “design” and “outreach.” They remind me of my northern kin, the noble sled dogs who, through the power of teamwork and dedication, pull their heavy, human companions across dangerous territories. Their cause is far nobler than these humans and their “marketing,” but I can appreciate the diligence of my mother’s team nonetheless.
However, this “marketing” is a young dog’s game, so I am content to spend my days at “TruBrand” in thoughtful meditation, reflecting on life’s greatest questions. With a new year comes much of the same—work, relationships, store-brand kibble—but with it too arrives that electric uncertainty, a tentative hope for change, for growth, for better things and happier moments.
A merry holiday season to you, dear reader, and a very happy new year.
Regards,
Colby
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