My humans have discovered a new expertise in themselves. They became nutritional therapists for canine beasts with a research specialization in the Coton de Tulear breed.

Parcel service brought them a box full of cans and small bags of granules. They based a written record for their research. Every day, they put granules from one of those bags into a bowl and write it down. Then they watch me and look like to be experimenters at CERN just before the discovery of the Higgs boson.

And me nothing. I push the bowl here and there. With their human intelligence, perhaps they will realize that they forgot to put pate in my bowl. But people react incredibly slowly. I don’t understand how with a bit slow on the uptake they could build a civilization. Fortunately, they finally understand. They write something in their transdisciplinary exploration records and mix a can into my granules.

With human training, we dogs have a really hard time. On the positive side, they understand slowly, but I finally reach the training goal. They understood that I would not eat the granules itselves, that they had to be mixed with canned food. I don’t know if the manufacturer of dog food will please with his applied research. It turned out that it does not matter at all what granules and what cans it is.

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I will never understand how humanity can exist for so many millennia. People are so impractical and ill-equipped that their survival of more than 24 hours must be considered a miracle.

Take, for example, the handicap that they do not have fur. They have to put on some impossible rags every morning to be alive in the evening and not to freeze..

He cannot hunt or feed in nature. When they are going on a trip, they cut supplies in the morning, which they shove into bags, which they then carry on their backs all day. However, I have to add to the goodness of my humans that they will also pack treats and water for me.

They walk only two legs. Of course, you can’t really get anywhere in this ridiculous way. They are therefore transported in stinking tin boxes on wheels, which make me sick.

They don’t have a whole brain in their head. I’m a little afraid that some of they may not have any at all. Substantial parts of their brain are housed in a variety of boxes that they carry with them. In one such box, they write where they want to go and it gives them orders. “After fifty meters, turn left.” People obey these commands of the external brain indefinitely without getting a treat.

Well, let me tell you, I’m always happy to be back home. Because, if my humans lost any of their external parts, I would probably have to take them home myself. And that could go wrong. I admit that after those years in the puppy mill, I also don’t have the same instincts as my great-grandmother wolf used to be.

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People are very predictable. And they wonder about it. When my she-human says to my he-human “just look, she already knows we’re going somewhere”, she means telepathy, the third eye and parallel universes. I don’t want to say that we dogs do not use telepathy, the third eye and we cannot move in parallel realities. But I don’t need quantum mechanics or superstring theory to know that we’re going on a trip. All I have to do is see with one slightly ajar eye from my lair packing their backpack.

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I don’t know about you, but we here in the centre of Europe have the perfect weather to keep us in the bed all day. We call it soul weather.

Although I like to run in all weathers, I wouldn’t mind stay in the bed all day from time to time. Just like he-human. But my she-human calls it laziness. And people probably can’t afford that for some reason unknown to me.

We dogs do not know the term laziness. We do what’s needed and what we enjoy. When we’re hungry, it’s time to release the energy to hunt. And if we’re fed up and safe, where to run?

People used to have it that way, but now they’re probably broken. They constantly chase for something. Sometimes I think they never have enough. And nothing is pleasing to them. They complain that they are not catching up. And other times, there’s nothing to do.Even the weather is never good for them – either it’s too cold or too hot, terribly dry, or it’s still raining. They are still moaning. My great-great-grandmother the she-wolf said me that every weather is good for something and those who are not indebted to the weather will not be indebted to life. Personally, I love running around in the cold weather, as well as what my she-human calls laziness.

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