Puppy Prozac

My dog Buddy is the happiest being in the whole wide world.

He is like a little walking Prozac pill. If I could somehow capture his joie de vivre, encapsulate it in pill form and sell it, I would be a millionaire.

Everything is a joy to him. If I ask him what he hears as. “Cpihshakepoininaitreatadjfoijgoforawalkapofjgoodboycookiejpoadrideinthecar?”

He responds “Oh, go for a walk?” (I know this because I speak dog) “I am thrilled to take a walk!” And off we will go, his head and tail held high and with such earnestness and enthusiasm that it is contagious.

Look what I found for you:

They say you can’t buy happiness, but you can buy this!

I found it on Wikipedia, the definitive source of ALL THINGS.
It isn’t a specially formulated Doggy Prozac pill but it is the best I can do for you on such short notice.

So what makes Buddy so happy? I think he has some sort of cosmic insight into the secrets of achieving inner happiness and peace:

Dwell in the moment.
If someone offers you a treat, eat it.
Treat the people in your life with wild joyousness and abundant good cheer.
Take frequent walks.

That appears to be the gist of it, but it seems to work for him.

Think I will try it.


“Happiness is a warm puppy!”

When we first got Buddy, he was “crate trained.” That meant that he was accustomed to sleeping in his crate at night and going into the crate during times that he would be unattended.  Perfect, we thought.  When we weren’t watching him, we would know his whereabouts and we could rest assured that he wasn’t chewing on something he shouldn’t, having accidents in the house, an adventure in the trash, or his favorite, shredding toilet paper.

We had it all together as dog-owners.  We wouldn’t need an intervention by Cesar Millan. Nope, not us! We issued an edict: NO SLEEPING ON THE BED!  Our dog would sleep in his crate.

Then one evening, he had some sort of puppy virus. Poor little thing, he didn’t feel well.  I just couldn’t leave him downstairs whimpering in his crate. I brought his crate upstairs and put it next to our bed. After a few hours of sleep interrupted by pitiful little doggy cries, I unlocked the crate and lifted him up into our bed.

He burrowed in right next to me, a warm little puff of love and affection, his little furry body tucked in as close as he could possibly get to me.  All of the dog training manuals and dog trainer shows on TV forgot to mention one thing: the wonderful feeling of an adoring little dog snuggled next to you in bed.

Needless to say, from that night on, Buddy has slept in our bed. Charles Shultz had it right,

“Happiness is a warm puppy!”