Why can’t people be more like dogs or cats? Why do people hold grudges, harbor ill will, do nasty things to each other?
I’m a fine one to be asking these questions. I’m a perfect example of everything that’s wrong with the human race. I have more grudges than a stack of phone books. I’m filled up to my neck with ill will. And although I’ve never meant to be nasty, I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to hurt everyone who has ever gotten to know me.
But despite me being the monster that I am, my dog doesn’t care.
“If there are no dogs in Heaven,
then when I die I want to go
where they went.”
– Will Rogers, 1897-1935
2 comments
I have been dealing with the same feelings and I don’t know how I’m getting past this. I feel like I am always treated so poorly because I’m weak, but it’s not weakness to be kind. Somehow others see it that way though. So where does that leave those of us who aren’t cruel? We kill ourselves or become full of hate? Why are those our choices?
“We kill ourselves or become full of hate?”
I don’t know, but I don’t see any other choices. It’s like nature has designed it so that cruelty thrives while kindness kills itself off. Well here’s to dying young.