If you’re a dog mom (or dad) you know what a Wubba is. If you don’t…you’re…lucky?
The Wubba is an “indestructible” (I use this term very loosely) high-pitched, squeaky toy that Murphy is OBSESSED with. Seriously.
I’m fortunate enough to be able to bring him to work with me, and I’ve never met another soul who loves work more than the Murphster. He jumps out of the car, bolts through the front door, opens his baby/dog gate and dives into “our” office right to where he last left his Wubba. And when we leave? He’s antsy-pants in the car, hurdles over the front seat to get out of the car before I do (we’re working on it), bounds up the stairs and barrels through the front door…only to face dive into his… Wubba.
It’s a strange thing this Wubba.
And you know what? I’m jealous.
Murphy has two! Where’s my Wubba?
In life, do we get the happy-go-lucky equivalent to a favored toy? Or do our opposable thumbs set us apart from other species; and instead we have to spend our days working for the man and trying to find our Happy Place?
Murphy doesn’t worry about what he just found and ate in a bush nearby (don’t ask because half the time I have no idea either) or what his friends are doing; If he’s missing out; or fear that karma is coming to get him. Nope, instead he hops on the bed, drops the Wubba on the ground, gives it the stink eye and lunges for it. Over and over and over. Wubba Love (video proof!)
And while I love Murphy’s quirkiness and outlook that “life-is-what-happens” not “what I make of it,” I can’t stand it when people have the same point of view. Is that fair? I think so.
Murphy will weave back and forth on a sidewalk with little disregard to you or your personal space, and won’t think twice, because that’s your problem. Not his. It’s the same as someone who is so caught up in their own world that they fail to recognize you standing in front of them or behind them in line, or acknowledge that you too have a life because they are too wrapped up in their own. Dogs get a pass. You, human, do not. Shape up or we’ll kick you off the planet and send you to Mars. I hear humans will be landing there in 2030. Maybe you can volunteer?
Sigh. It’s much too early to vent. Move over Murphy. Share the Wubba.