Love. Drool. Eat peanut butter. Everyday

My guys are smart. Today, they taught me several lessons. Love, really, is all you need.

Lay atop the ac vents, and when it’s this hot, stay out of the sun. At least, if you’re black. Pant, leaving drooling on the floor; wait for ice cubes to appear in the water dish. Follow the biggest, alpha dog around; she knows where all the good stuff is kept.

Chase bugs. Eat moths. Leave bees alone. Don’t eat mommy’s roses; they are delicious, but her approval is more so. Eat off the counter. All the bestest stuff lives up there. Lick the inside of the dishwasher, at least once; you never know what you might find. Carry an item, at all times, that smells of your loved ones. Especially their socks. They lose those anyway. Keep only what you can carry in your mouth, for long distances, alone.

Lick your backside, as you may be the only to do it. Do that wherever and whenever you please; no one else seems to mind. Belch when your tummy is upset, vomit only on the rug. It’s kinder on your feet, than the hardwoods.

Explore on your own, knowing that if you’re out there, doing your thing and you get skunked, the pack will always take you back. Even when you smell to high heaven, and then some. Drool. A lot. Over everyone. Leave paw prints on wet pants, wipe your mouth on the white chairs, drop fur on eveything. Then, you’ve loved them as yours.

Snarl when angry, pant when hot, snuggle regardless of the temperature, the location, or, the lack of room on the couch. Hide your pills in peanut butter: there is no better substance on earth. Eat off the floor. Check out the trash, and drink from the toilet - that’s where the coldest water lives.

Greet everyone who comes through your door enthusiastically, unless they smell threatening, and then, just show them your teeth. Kiss everyone you love, even if you can only reach their ass, and that’s all they’ll let you do. In the end, they know you care.

Gaurd your loved ones, your pack, your friends pack. Kiss when you want, even if your breath smells. Someone will think it’s the best ambrosia, and even if they don’t, they’ll still kiss you back. Forget how long they’ve been gone, how far they may have traveled without you - they’ve come back. They smell wonderful. Sniff away.

Laugh. Love. Drool.

It’s all you need.

Well. And peanut butter.