On man's best friend

My dog is a fool. She's so stupid and unusual that I seriously think she's retarded. Because of dogs' size, volume, dependence et cetera, I've always been more of a cat person. But last night I had a really odd experience with my dog that.. well I don't know what else to say about it.

I let her into the backyard around 3am and sat back at my computer. A half hour passes and I realize she never came back to be let it. I head out back to see what she's doing and I find her sitting in the middle of the lawn, staring up at the sky. She hears me and turns her head but doesn't budge from her spot. We just stare at each other, likely both wondering what the other is thinking. Then I decided to join her. I noticed her tail didn't wag when I approached her.

Once I was beside she looked back up to the sky as if I hadn't interrupted her. I looked up too and saw a clear sky. Then I felt a light breeze and noticed a low, rumbling noise from far off in the distance. The longer I sat there the more I realized how well these sensations blended together. I sat down next to her and began stroking the back of her head.

Every now and then I thought about how unusual it was for her to be acting so solemn. In a way, she reminded me of myself. People sometimes say I'm really smart but most just look at me like I'm a fool. And I don't blame them. I do act like a fool pretty often and I have no idea why. It doesn't feel natural to me and I always look back on it with disgust. I've never really been socially comfortable so I guess I just panic in a small way.

Sitting in the grass last night with my dog was the most genuine things I've done in a long time. It's the kinda thing I feel most people wouldn't enjoy, but because I do I need to embrace it for the sake of finding my self. "Finding my self" is something I've been struggling with a lot lately. More on that later.