I wish I was a Dog

I Wish I Was a Dog: A Heartfelt Reflection on Simpler Times

for he love everyone the same way..
he moves his tail for you the same way he did it yesterday or any time before..
he still loves you even if you cheat on him..

Sometimes, in the midst of life’s chaos, I find myself staring out the window, watching dogs play in the park, and I can’t help but think, “I wish I was a dog.” It’s not just a fleeting thought or a silly daydream; it’s a deep, heartfelt yearning for a simpler, purer existence. An existence where love is uncomplicated, joy is abundant, and the weight of the world is lifted by the gentle wag of a tail.

The Simplicity of a Dog’s Life

Dogs don’t carry the burdens we humans do. They don’t worry about bills, deadlines, or social expectations. Their lives revolve around the basics—food, play, affection, and rest. It’s a life free from the complexities that often cloud our minds and weigh down our hearts.

Imagine waking up every day with a single goal: to be happy. For a dog, that might mean chasing a ball, lying in a sunny spot on the floor, or simply sitting beside their favorite human. There’s no overthinking, no second-guessing—just a pure, unfiltered connection to the present moment.

In our fast-paced world, where we’re constantly bombarded with information, expectations, and responsibilities, the simplicity of a dog’s life feels like a dream. Dogs don’t overcomplicate things. They don’t hold grudges or get caught up in what-ifs. They live in the now, fully immersed in each moment, and that’s something I find myself yearning for more and more.

Unconditional Love and Loyalty

One of the most beautiful aspects of a dog’s life is their capacity for unconditional love. Dogs don’t care about your flaws, your past mistakes, or your insecurities. They love you just as you are, with a loyalty that’s unwavering and pure. It’s a kind of love that’s hard to find among humans, where relationships are often tainted by conditions, expectations, and misunderstandings.

I wish I had the ability to love as freely and as fully as a dog does. They forgive easily, and they don’t hold onto resentment. When you come home after a long day, your dog doesn’t care how tired or stressed you are—they’re just overjoyed to see you. Their love is a balm for the soul, a reminder that at the end of the day, what truly matters is the connection we share with those we love.

How often do we, as humans, get caught up in our own minds, letting fears and doubts cloud our relationships? We analyze, we worry, we wonder if we’re good enough, if we’re lovable. But dogs—they just love. They don’t question it, they don’t complicate it. They offer their hearts fully, and they ask for nothing in return except perhaps a scratch behind the ears or a cozy spot beside you.

The Joy of the Little Things

Dogs find joy in the simplest things—something we often forget to do. Have you ever watched a dog chasing after a ball, tongue lolling out, eyes bright with excitement? Or seen the way they perk up at the sound of the word “walk,” as if it’s the most exciting thing in the world? Their joy is infectious, a reminder that happiness isn’t found in big, grand gestures, but in the little moments we so often overlook.

I wish I could experience that kind of unbridled joy. We humans tend to overcomplicate happiness, tying it to achievements, possessions, or external validation. But dogs—they’re content with the simple pleasures. A belly rub, a tasty treat, a good nap—these are the things that make their day.

I envy that simplicity. I envy the way dogs can find happiness in just being. No need for elaborate plans or grand ambitions—just a sunny day and someone to share it with. It makes me wonder how much of our own happiness we miss out on by constantly chasing after something more, something bigger, when maybe, just maybe, the joy we’re seeking is already right in front of us.

The Freedom of Being Yourself

Dogs don’t wear masks. They don’t pretend to be something they’re not. If they’re happy, they show it. If they’re sad, they don’t hide it. There’s an authenticity to dogs that’s rare in humans. We’re taught from a young age to put on a brave face, to hide our vulnerabilities, to present ourselves in a certain way to fit in or be accepted. But dogs—they’re just themselves, unapologetically and wholeheartedly.

I wish I could embrace that kind of freedom—the freedom to be exactly who I am without fear of judgment or rejection. Dogs don’t worry about being too much or not enough. They don’t try to fit into boxes or live up to expectations. They just are, and that’s enough.

In a world that constantly pressures us to be something we’re not, the authenticity of a dog’s existence feels like a breath of fresh air. They remind us that it’s okay to be ourselves, to show our true colors, and to embrace our quirks and flaws.

The Quiet Strength of Presence

There’s something incredibly soothing about just being in the presence of a dog. They don’t need to say anything, do anything, or fix anything. They’re just there, offering quiet companionship and a comforting presence. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves and others is to simply be present.

I wish I could embody that quiet strength—the ability to just be, without needing to constantly do or achieve. Dogs don’t rush through life; they savor it. They take their time, they stop to smell the roses (and everything else), and they remind us to slow down and appreciate the beauty of just being.

In our hectic lives, filled with endless to-do lists and constant demands, the peaceful presence of a dog is a gift. It’s a reminder that sometimes, it’s okay to pause, to take a breath, and to just be.

Paws & Reflect!

I know I’m not really going to wake up one day and find myself with four paws and a wagging tail. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing, from time to time, that I could experience life the way a dog does. A life filled with simple joys, unconditional love, and the freedom to be myself, fully and unapologetically.

While I may never become a dog (and let’s be honest, I’d miss coffee way too much), I can still learn from them. I can strive to live a little more like they do—to find joy in the little things, to love without hesitation, and to be present in each moment. Because maybe, just maybe, that’s the secret to a life well-lived.