i read something that caught my nose

they left a back issue of the believer magazine open on the bathroom floor. so when they were gone i went to have a look. i can't turn pages, what with the paws and all, so luckily it was laying open to a very interesting page. i didn't read the whole story, in fact i just read the opening paragraph. but that was enough to spark this entry. the writer, i'm not sure what his name is, said something along the lines that people remember through story, they imagine the future through story, and they think through narrative. story and humans are forever linked. it got me thinking what about us canines. as far as i can tell i don't think with any narrative structure. more like i paint pictures in my mind with my nose. i smell things, these smells stay in my feeble brain, like pictures. i can conjure up these images/smells when i'm feeling lonely or hungry. i also can predict the future through smell. when it is almost 7pm i start smelling my food even though it is locked away in the pantry. then the big one opens the pantry and i'm not just smelling the food in my mind, i'm actually sticking my gaping maw into my bowl and swallowing the little smelly morsels whole.

just thought you might be interested.

chew chew chew chew

i'm not referring to the sound of a train with bad spelling. i'm on a chewing, you know, teeth, binge. chewed some dvd covers the other day. still eating anything paper. ate a plastic spiderman action figurine. you should have seen the big one's face when i shat it out. you know i can't pass up crayons, especially the crayola brand. not sure why i'm doing it. do you know why you do anything? motivations are always a mystery to me. and even if you think you know your motivations more than likely it is a self deceptive excercise.

so my advice to you is to just chew. do what comes naturally. don't worry about the repurcussions because chances are you'll pass it soon enough. and if crayolas are your vice just imagine the pretty colored excrement that your actions are creating.

i'm born again

not in any sort of metaphysical way but in a very mundane way. i'm writing again. to write is to exist...to write again is to be reborn.

things have been slow here. the ski season ended but the snow is falling today. it has been warm, which always means the big ones leave me out on the porch all day. not that i'm complaining, but would it hurt them to take me with them every now and then? the answer to that rhetorical question is a big emphatic noooooo.

enough of the bitterness, time to enjoy the spring time.