With my dog I don't get no respect. He keeps barking at the front door. He don't want to go out. He wants me to leave.
I think we are drawn to dogs because they are the uninhibited creatures we might be if we weren't certain we knew better.
He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.)
I am accustomed to hearing malicious falsehoods about myself . . . But I think I have a right to resent, to object to libelous statements about my dog.
I believe in God the way my dog does
Hardly any animal can look as deeply disappointed as a dog to whom one says "no."
I wish I could go home. I've been on the road since May. I wonder if my dogs still remember me
The only emotional connection of relevance is with my dog. My relationship with my dog, it's ridiculous.
I guess I would be most grateful for my family and my friends and my dogs, my boyfriend. I'm grateful for a lot. I'm grateful to be healthy.
When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself.
No babies for me until I'm in my 30s! I'm focused on my career right now. I can't even take care of my dog.
Sophie, my dog, is the high in the highlights of my life. Even through rain, snow, ice, and general laziness, she is the reason I smile when I wake up and a comfort to me continually. I could never have imagined that a now five-pound, six-ounce dog would take over my life. But it has happened, and I am happy to have someone to look after and share my moods with.
Fatty, a bearded collie-terrier mix, is the kindest, cuddliest dog. And Oliver, a white golden retriever, even looks like me! My dogs have taught me to be more loving, more nurturing, and happier.
Sometimes when you play a character, you can feel it in your body. And I felt like I had characteristics of my dog: the way Webster moves, the way he holds his head. I kind of adapted it into this part unconsciously
Old age means realizing you will never own all the dogs you wanted to.
I have no reason to influence people. I just want to have it all for myself. I just want someone to pat me on the back. (laugh) It's crazy. It seems just completely ridiculous. I don't know why. I mean, three years ago, I wouldn't be able to influence my dog to walk.
They say that dog is man's best friend, and I think it's true. My dog does a lot of the same stuff my best friend does, like drool on my couch, mooch my food and hump my wife.
No, my dog used to gaze at me, paying me the attention I need, the attention required to make a vain person like me understand that, being a dog, he was wasting time, but, with those eyes so much purer than mine, he’d keep on gazing at me with a look that reserved for me alone all his sweet and shaggy life, always near me, never troubling me, and asking nothing.
In this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.
Did you know that there are over three hundred words for love in canine?
If dogs could talk, perhaps we would find it as hard to get along with them as we do with people.
Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.
Two thousand miles, Rachel,” he said tightly, and I guessed that no, it didn’t violate the rules of whatever he was doing out here, because he sure wasn’t out here keeping the coven from attacking me. “I have eaten nothing but slop for two days and used facilities I wouldn’t let my dogs urinate in. And what about that couple in the RV outside Texas? I’ll never get that memory out of my head.” - Trent to Rachel
I have found that when you are deeply troubled, there are things you get from the silent devoted companionship of a dog that you can get from no other source.
Woke up this morning to the incredible news that I was nominated for an Emmy, and a shower full of dog poop. Apparently my dog is so excited, she has explosive diarrhea. I truly could not be more thankful to the Emmy voters for including me in this brilliant company of extraordinary women. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go clean up an enormous amount of dog poop out of my shower. Yay!
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