If you get yourself a dog, you’ll say to yourself, “He’s so cute and cuddly. I love having a dog.”
When he piddles in the middle of the floor, you’ll think twice. But only for a second or two.
When you first teach him how to obey, you’ll be so pleased with his learner’s spirit. After you’ve run out of treats, you’ll wonder if he actually knows how to obey.
And when he goes out for exercise and business, you’ll ask him, “Why are you leading me? How do you already know how to get there?” You’ll show him how to follow over and over and hope he pipes down the sniffer.
At home he’ll be such a sweet snuggler, warming himself in the crook of your arm and nuzzling your nose. You’ll find yourself saying, “I love you no matter what, always and forever.”
But then he’ll get board and chew your work boots and kill a chicken or two. You’ll ask yourself why you got the dog in the first place.
When a stranger comes to the door, he’ll firociously bark, alerting you to potential danger, and you’ll thank him for serving the family.
But when you try to take a family portrait to capture your handsome canine, you’ll have to fight him tooth and nail to smile.
If you get yourself a dog, he’ll be silly and sweet, ridiculous and rowdy, brave and beastly. But what else can you expect from a beast?
He’ll be the best beast you ever had.
In the hands of the potter,