I am waiting for the sun to spread its fingers upon the ground
And warm the seeds inside my heart, to sing a special sound
To make the seed peel back its walls, in pale green tendril flare
To live to thrive, to be alive to grow and to be there

It is winter.
My seeds are waiting.
It does not matter the number
For in the winter the seeds I plant shall- slumber

There is a group of people out there who think it is silly, sick even, the way that people love their dogs. Even trainers will warn you against the anthropomorphizing of your pet, how this humanization will distract you from the true nature of your pet. They say that dogs feel differently than we do, think differently, respond differently, but I don't think so at all.

I spoke with SmarterChild online when I was younger and I have asked Siri questions. Sprocket is not like those thing. Neither is he much like the fish, mice or plants that I have had. Sprocket has a connection with the human experience that is more profound than any of those things.

Right now, he sits at my feet and he is dreaming. He is dreaming a good dream now, but when he dreams an upsetting dream, I can tell by his twitching and his whining. I tell him, "Your a good boy" and his little blue eyes flicker open and he smiles at me.

Sprocket has friends, and not just canine ones, although that is remarkable enough. There are people in his life who, beyond any judgement that I place upon them, become a part of our lives. They know Sprocket's name, even if they don't know mine , and they speak to him and have their own relationship with him. He has his favorite dogs, too. His best friend is a golden retriever from doggie daycare. He is scared of a husky from the dog park. He beats up on an overlarge bull terrier mix, but only when everyone else is doing it. When I correct him, he sometimes listens, sometimes blows me off, and sometimes whines, barks and gives me dirty looks in response.

Sprocket likes treats, other dogs, other people, and being in the same room as you as often as possible. He does not like baths, magpies and overzealous labs. He is stone cold afraid of coyotes and will go nuts when he can so much as smell one. He doesn't mind being picked up, but only sometimes and only when he's not trying to do something else. And, in his own bizarre way, he really does love me.

I don't really think there is anything strange about the love we have for our dogs. People talk about them being replacement babies, replacement friends, replacements for significant others, but I think their pathologizing is empty. They don't really 'replace' anything. They are, simply, souls born into the bodies of dogs. Sleep well, Sprocket.

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