I’ve come to the conclusion that to be truly happy, I need to channel my inner-dog.

Not kidding.

Between brain blocks, allergies, and the flu, it’s been a œThere’s got to be a pony in here couple of weeks.

If you don’t know the story, here it is (courtesy of http://buddychai.com/Stories/Stories3.html ):

There is a story of identical twins. One was a hope-filled optimist. “Everything is coming up roses!” he would say. The other twin was a sad and hopeless pessimist. He thought that Murphy, as in Murphy’s Law, was an optimist. The worried parents of the boys brought them to the local psychologist.

He suggested to the parents a plan to balance the twins’ personalities. “On their next birthday, put them in separate rooms to open their gifts. Give the pessimist the best toys you can afford, and give the optimist a box of manure.” The parents followed these instructions and carefully observed the results.

When they peeked in on the pessimist, they heard him audibly complaining, “I don’t like the color of this computer . . I’ll bet this calculator will break . . . I don’t like the game . . . I know someone who’s got a bigger toy car than this . . .”

Tiptoeing across the corridor, the parents peeked in and saw their little optimist gleefully throwing the manure up in the air. He was giggling. “You can’t fool me, where there’s this much manure, there’s gotta be a pony.”

Anyway, as I’ve spent my days flinging manure (when not flinging tissue paper or curse words), I had a chance to notice the furry ones, specifically, Murphy.


Every time I go into the kitchen, he follows. Now, granted, he follows everywhere, but there’s really something about the kitchen. If G.T. or I are in there for any length of time, Murphy’s there, sitting by the dishwasher.

I know why he’s there.


He sits and waits and hopes he’ll get some cheese or a nugget of meat, or a puppy treat.

The interesting thing is that this rarely happens. Maybe 2 or 3 times out of 10.

Doesn’t matter.

He’s still there, sitting, hoping.

And the crazy thing is that once I realized that was why he was coming, I’ve started handing out more yummies.

But he’s got me wondering how often I hope and wait.

Not often, not in the past couple of weeks.  These few days have been full of me focusing on all the times I DIDN’T get a yummy.

Gotta say. Not the best use of my time.

So, I think I’m going to practice some Murphy-isms.

1) Start hoping.

2) Not get pissed if I go into the œkitchen and get nothing.

3) Be grateful when I do get something yummy.

In other words, I gotta be more Zen-Doggy, y’know?