Lately, I have been overly stressed, and when I feel anxious my mind plays tricks on me.  I play a little game I like to call “what if?”

What if they charge me $800.00 for the broken computer?
What if I lose my shit and punch some smartass kid in the face?
What if my cholesterol number doesn’t fall?
What if that headache was really a tumor?
What if this skin tag on my neck is really cancer?
What if I get in a car accident trying to call the doctor to get this skin tag looked at?
What if I die?

“What if” always leads to death, which means I have been thinking a great deal about what comes next.  I have decided, I kind of like the idea of reincarnation, but only if I get to come back as something cool, like a house dog.

How good do dogs have it?  They sleep about twenty hours a day; they crap wherever they want (and if they have nice parents; they don’t even get in trouble for the occasional accident in the house); and when they are cute, wag their tails, and give a few licks, they usually produce the “Aaahhh factor” and score a couple of treats.

Yep.  Being a house dog would be pretty fabulous, especially because the worries I feel as a human would cease to exist.  The owners of most house dogs want their dogs to feel that they live in a utilitarian society– what is important is the greatest happiness for little Fido.  When the owner is nervous about bills, he doesn’t yell at Fido for not contributing his fair share.  In actuality, he offers the dog more love and affection because he himself feels better by cuddling with the dog.   Furthermore, Fido is showered with love when life is at its fullest and at its happiest for said owner.  When the owner is having a good day, he wants to treat Fido to an extra walk, a car ride, or a trip to the dog park.

Really.  Anyway you slice it, it’s a win-win.

The best part of being reincarnated as a dog is that the owner thinks Fido has some mystical way of sensing the goodness in people.  I know that when my dog barks at the strangers and acquaintances who enter my home, I weigh his reaction gravely.  Dogs are intuitive, and their visceral knowledge of the human aura is real.  They can read people unlike any human can.  They sense goodness.  They sense negativity.

Yep, if I were reincarnated as a dog, I would hope I would maintain some of my human common sense and brain functioning.  I would make newcomers work at being my friend, even the ones I know are essentially favorable.  I would need to be cajoled with numerous belly rubs to be convinced of the person’s kindness.  The smart stranger would slip me table scraps to win me over.

Sometimes, I would probably want to entertain myself as well, so sometimes, with a really new person, I might bark a mighty bark that rings with great portents.  Surely,  my owner would feel alarm about the character of this newcomer– could I smell malevolence and disaccord?  Could I be the harbinger of dangers to come?  Naaa.  I’d just be f–ing with him, but it sure would be fun to watch everyone squirm, especially if the newcomer had the potential of being that “someone special,” someone who would be competing with me for my owner’s time and affections.  Oh yes, this person would have to work hard to win me over.  I’m sure learning to bake organic dog treats would be a step in the right direction.

Yes, I think it would be a pretty good life being a dog.  No grammar.  No traffic tickets.  No trips to the DMV.

I would like a chair I could call my own
drink from the water and eat a juicy bone
wake up every day and enjoy my new life
I would not complain of my former strife
I was upset, you see, as a human it was hard
But being a dog, no more chance to be marred.