Never Forget Who's Voted for You

I know you’ve heard this from me before and it's going to sound like I’m beating a dead rocking horse, but my life is devoid of materials. It isn’t that I don’t want the goods; to feel a whole person, I need a wide selection of footwear, designer sunglasses, moderately priced paperback novels, and microwave-safe bowls just as much as the next guy. Unfortunately, I have some hot daughters living in the backyard that have torn through and eaten everything I just listed… including the dead rocking horse.

The Bench-walking Wench

When the dogs aren't testing their jaws of life on inanimate and often poisonous products, they are flirting with visitors to the house. While the driveway acts as a revolving door to our hostel environment, our adopted sassholes act as pushy greeters, offering to carry guest’s bags in with their teeth. Of course, this all takes place after each dog has shoved a nose into any new groins in the room; a strict check-in process, not to be disturbed.

We don’t ask anything of visitors but to have a good time, but we do warn them that by the end of their stay here they must vote for their favorite pup. Inevitably, opinions become polarized and tempers flare - ours and the guests mostly, but sometimes the dogs. When I recently saw Mosey cast a disdainful glance at Kona after someone cast a  vote for Kona, I knew it was time to teach her a lesson. Thankfully, she took my words to mouth and I watched as she digested everything I said. In fact, the advice worked so well with Mosey that I’ve decided to take it and apply it to my own life. It’s very simple, as I told Mosey: Never Forget Who’s Voted for You.

Two commas, chillin' on the floor.

I think each of our relationships is an individual Trust spectrum with a ballot box at each end. The boxes slide from Bust to Trust and multiple votes are allowed over a lifetime of interaction. It is important to pause often and check the boxes; I’d like to stay updated on who’s voted/voting for me and thank them for doing so.

I’m not going to thank those that elected me “Prom Prince: Wesley King." Votes for me weren’t cast at some grand event, they happen more often and in much smaller doses than that.

"Don't make me Power Tie you to the chair."

My preschool teacher decided against punishing me for being a “smart-alec” and gave me a kitten instead. A girlfriend’s Grandma and her Grandma’s friends gave me some money for “college expenses” because someday, they said, I was going to do great things. I barely knew them! A redneck gifted me a dollar to fill my flat tire... I gave him all the credit I could even as my credit cards were worthless in that situation. Here, you can borrow my car. Here, you can sleep on my couch. Here, you can stay here, right here, with me! Here, I don’t really know you but you can meet my circle of friends… I’d rather you do that than continue to stand in the corner by the umbrella stand, wading for rain.

I’m sorry to say that each of the above votes of confidence were based on a bad assessment. I’m not untrustworthy, but most of my decisions are path-of-least-resistance and you would get a better return tossing liquid assets into a waterfall. Yet people continue to trust me, and someday, inevitably, someone will do the same for you. I know, I agree, they are entirely too trusting! But whether the trust is small (they trust you with their time, their smile, their secrets) or large (horse-sitting, model train-set, experimental brain surgery), remember to thank them, or, at least, acknowledge their actions.

I’ve discovered the real world isn’t a vacuum, so I’m trying to suck less. Help me out… remind me of a time you trusted me so I can make fun of you for it. Just please don’t tell me which pup you like more; I’d rather you whisper it in their ears when you visit. Trust me, they won’t forget.