he didn’t ask for this.
he met me on a farm with the world exploding all around him. ears full of human conversation and vizslas whining. eyes full of puppies and colors and sunlight.
nose desperately treading water in a sea of new smells.
senses at attention, he ended up in the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car with a guy who spent the next hour driving to chicago, managing a squirming little animal with his free hand, and wondering how to keep living things alive.
now, still alive and more confident, still a puppy but more in tune with the ebb and flow of a big city, branner challenges me to forget everything but him, at all times. he’s convinced nothing else is more important. nothing could come close to being more interesting.
he’s the at the center of the universe, if you hadn’t heard.
as i juggle that attention with a professional journey i hope to shape my life, he reminds me every evening, every morning, that i couldn’t pass a second grade Priorities Test.
you have to admire his devotion to attention, really.
strangers can’t help noting the energy that branner’s breed has. unsolicited warnings abound, which puzzle me to the notion that i haven’t been raising the crazy little fucker for 8 months now.
i get it.
but he’s also sharp as a tack,
better looking than you,
and a surprisingly talented snuggler.
he also pees on strangers.
the world has such balance sometimes.