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Happy birthday in dog years you would be dead

Happy birthday in dog years you would be dead


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Happy birthday in dog years you would be dead but in cat years you would have been dead long ago and even if you somehow managed to live to be a thousand you would be too old and infirm to know about the great celebration of your birthday. This is the way things are. Life is not fr. Or even roughly fr. Even as you age it can take you from the height of your health and vitality down to the bottom of the pit, or up, or sideways, or just out of the way altogether, and if you are a dog you are never going to get even. If a dog should survive, say, the cancer that killed the other dog a year ago, his new cancer can strike at any time, and a new disease that never did him any harm can eat away his old muscles and bones and then the dog can die of old age before he can even notice he is sick. It is not fr to a dog.

I am sure dogs would not think so if they knew about the human birthday party. Dogs live in the moment. A dog in the wild might have the occasional glimpse of a feast on the savannah, or a mate with the bitch, or a new place to sleep. But he is not thinking of the past. A dog does not remember his birthdays. He will not dream about birthdays. He will not wt and hope and make plans for the future. A dog has no plans.

Of course a dog is not completely without thought, or the desire for things that are not there. Some of us have a thing for shoes or socks. I know I do. I remember it, I dream of it, I am haunted by it. I would be very sad indeed if I did not have socks. I would be utterly lost if a stranger, in a different city, walked in the house and saw my feet uncovered and uncovered by socks. I would cry. I would have to go back into the closet. I would have to make my bed. I would have to make my bed in the closet. The socks would have to be removed from the floor. I would have to make my bed in the closet. I would have to go back in the closet. I would go back in the closet and take my socks. I would go back in the closet. I would take my socks. I would bring my socks back. I would take my socks back. I would go back in the closet. I would take my socks back.

But a dog does not remember. He will not go into the closet and return the socks that are not there. He will not go into the closet. He will not go back in the closet. He will not go in the closet. He will not take his socks back. He will not take his socks back. He will not put on his socks. He will not put on his socks. He will not go out into the street to find the owner of the socks. He will not go out into the street. He will not go out into the street. He will not return the socks. He will not return the socks. He will not return the socks. He will not take his socks back. He will not take his socks back.

I am certn that there were a few people who thought the dog had some capacity to remember or at least think about things. They are the same people who say, 'You're just a dog, you're just a dog, I would do anything for a dog,' and then they go into the closet and come out with a sock.

There are a few people like that. There is one of them right here. But even they do not believe that a dog remembers. I am sure they believe a dog thinks, but they do not believe he thinks about a birthday party or the fact that one day he will have no one to celebrate his birthday.

A dog will not remember his birthdays. It is not fr to a dog.

And yet there are a few people who believe that a dog is smart enough to know that he is alive and a human being and that his mother and father love him, that he is born on a day when a whole houseful of human beings gathers to celebrate his arrival, that he gets a toy, that he gets food, that he gets his ears scratched, that he gets his tummy rubbed.

It is not fr to a dog.

But these few people who believe that dogs are intelligent enough to know that they are alive and human beings and love them, that they are born on a day when a houseful of human beings celebrates their birth, that they get a toy, that they get food, that they get their ears scratched, that they get their tummies rubbed, these few people who believe a dog is intelligent enough to be aware that he is alive and a human being, that he is born on a day that is special to him, that he is brought gifts and is kissed, that he is given his own place to live, and when it is time to leave, he is taken to his bed, and when he is in his bed, he has to sleep, they still believe that he is intelligent enough to know that this is how it is and that it must be as it is because he is smart enough to know that he is a dog and he is not smart enough to know any different.

And they are wrong.

A dog is not smart enough to know that he is alive and a human being. I do not know how a dog could figure it out. I do not even know how to tell a dog that he is alive. I do not know how I could expln it to him. I cannot expln to a dog that he is not the only one in the world. I cannot expln to a dog that he is not the only one in the world and that when the moon is full, the sea is smooth, and the sun is shining, a whole houseful of people all gather to celebrate his birth and when it is time to go, he is taken from his bed to his crate and when it is time to leave, it is time for him to go, he goes back to his crate and the next morning it is his birthday, a whole houseful of


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