Happiness of people and dogs

It will soon be a year since my life has changed dramatically. From the poor conditions of the puppy mill, I got to my humans. Most people who find out about my destiny feel sorry for me. Unnecessarily. I think I was very lucky in life.

I was given the opportunity to experience firsthand that something positive can be found even in the bad. Even in the puppy mill, I had moments when I was happy. For example, when I got food, or when I find friends in a pack. I didn’t wait with my happiness to get away. I could still wait for that.

I appreciate that I knew both bad and good. I can see the differences now. I appreciate what I have. Not like some spoiled dogs who have everything conceivable and still not enough for their happiness.

People have it differently. They often look for happiness where they cannot find it. And it is located right next to them. But they don’t see him. They are still waiting for something to happen that will be the reason for the real happiness. Until they finish school. Until they find a good job. Until they make enough money. Until they buy house. Until they are famous. Until … And finaly they die without being happy.

And so, my nice people, I advise to you: be like us dogs, live with what is and be happy with it! Remember that feeling happy is just a matter of our choice. After all, like all feelings. We must not give anyone and anything external the power to control our feelings.


I’ve been to the vet so many times that I’m not afraid of him at all. But this time it was different. My he-human left me there alone. And he looked kind of serious. I was afraid for a moment that he might never come for me again. And I’ll end up in a puppy mill again. Fortunately, the thought quickly disappeared. Because I know that my he-human will always return.

I got an injection and all thoughts drifted away. I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was wrapped in some kind of cylinder. My he-human was already waiting there, looking happier than when he left me.

He carefully took me to the car and we drove home. I was still quite sleepy, but when I saw my she-human and Dino, I started running and jumping, as we dogs do. Our humans’ eyes widened and they shouted “Slowly!” and “Don’t jump!”. As if I didn’t know best what to do myself.

My he-human then explained to me that they did surgery on me so that I would not have any more puppies. Because I had enough of them during my life in the puppy mill. And that now my belly is sewn and that’s why I can’t jump. And that my sleep in the vet office was not an ordinary sleep, but anesthesia. And that my humans were afraid that I wouldn´t wake up from the anesthesia and I could die.

If I could, I would explain to my he-human that we dogs are not afraid of death. Until we die, we live to the fullest. And once we die, we’ll just be somewhere else. So why bother about it all our life?

People often think so much about dying once and then don’t even have time to live. I can understand that some people do not believe in some form of existence after death. But I don’t really understand why they don’t live till they die.