Conversations with Dog

She rides shotgun on all my errands and doesn't complain if I drive a few miles out of the way for the best deal on Marie Callender's pot pies. She doesn't mind if my mood is good or bad.  My snoring doesn't keep her awake. She will dance around the house with me....if I put on Earth, Wind, and Fire. Or she will just as soon find the most comfortable towel in the pile to lie on while I fold the laundry. She loves the same music, the same tv shows, and she thinks my breath smells wonderful in the morning.

She also talks to me.

My Basenji, that is. She and I have conversations. And I don't mean "conversations", with rabbit ears and wiggly eyebrows.  I mean that I actually talk to her about things like work, people who make me mad, people we love and hope to see soon, and the weather. Oh, yes, we regularly discuss the weather. And she responds. We understand each other.

Okay, yeah. So her responses are baroos, short huffs, head spins, and the occasional eye roll (that was for scratching the Earth, Wind, and Fire cd). But there's a definite connection - we know where each other is coming from. I don't know how she knows. I don't know how I know she knows. She just....gets me. And she instinctively knows when I'm about to get up and go to the fridge.

Anthropomorphism. That's the nice word people who think I'm crazy like to use. But I just figure those people never had a dog. Or maybe they just live with a really mean hamster.

Having little chats with my dog isn't going to improve my IQ or change the world. But I get something out of bending down, scratching an ear, and asking, "What's up with you today? How's the weather down there?" And I believe that when she stares back and cocks her head to the side, she's saying, "Seriously....is that what you're wearing?"