My Dog Theory

I was standing there, folding laundry this morning, and my faithful companion, my dog, sat by my feet, standing guard. Even when I go to the bathroom, he follows me to the doorway to lay down at the threshold, facing out, to protect my honor should someone unauthorized try to come near. Not that he's dangerous. He's a pussycat. Except that he's a dog. And he just wants to be near me.

Anyway, I was just thinking about how much dogs are a reflection of their owner's character. Which apparently means that I'm sweet and lovable, faithful and loyal, excitable and playful, and I never bite. Unless you want me to. And then I don't bite hard. 

I know I'm only attributing his good qualities to me, but his only really annoying quality is that when I leave the house he wants to go with me so badly that he rushes out the door before I can stop him, and he refuses to come back in. By golly, he's coming with me, and that's that. And I guess he's got somewhat of an attachment issue. He doesn't like to be alone. And neither do I.

Then I got to thinking about someone I really dislike who has a dog, and what that dog was like. It was always huffing and snorting and crazy eyed, and every time it came around my place it would crap on the floor. Finally I banned that ridiculous dog, and eventually its owner for doing pretty much the same thing. 

So I guess my theory stands.