仿效一只狗生活态度.docVIP

仿效一只狗生活态度 　　I believe in my dog. 　　 　　I believe in the way he lives his life, and I try to emulate him. I strive to gain his level of happiness in the simplest of things. Like the way he approaches each meal with endless appreciation and even joy. While I struggle to decide what to eat from full cupboards and lament what I don’t have, he circles the floor, excitedly anticipating the very same meal, in the very same portion, at the very same time every day. 　　 　　I believe in how he lives in the present. As my day fills with stress, crowded commutes and endless deadlines, I think of Duncan home alone. His day was probably boring, but he’s ready to move right past it once we’re together. 　　 　　I believe in his 1)egalitarian treatment of everyone despite race, 2)creed or appearance. He never pre-judges. Before I had him, I considered myself “street smart,” avoiding eye contact with people I didn’t know or didn’t think I wanted to know. Running through Chicago neighborhoods with Duncan has changed all that. Now when people smile at us, I smile back, and if Duncan stops to say hello I stop and greet them, too. 　　 　　I never had a dog before; I got Duncan at the urging of a friend who had probably grown as tired of my 3)bachelor behavior as I had. My long work nights and weekends always ended with a lonely run, a 4)bourbon or two, or a phone call to someone I didn’t really listen to. All I talked about was me and what was wrong with my life. My friends stopped asking me out because I was always either at work or talking about work. 　　 　　I had dates with women who would mistakenly think I was loyal to them but I never returned their calls or thanked them for the cookies they left on my doorstep. I was what some people would call “a5)dog”―a bad dog. Not one person depended on me, nor I upon them. One Sunday I woke up at noon, and I suddenly noticed how silent both my house and my life were. I realized I couldn’t expect any valued relationship unless I created one f