Monday, March 2: Tiresias

My dog is smarter than I am. He is happy to be with me when he is with me. When I leave, he is sad. Yet he does not hold a grudge because I leave him in the morning. He does not assume that I will come home in the evening. He is amazed and thrilled every time I do. Then he goes back to being happy I am there.

Tiresias greets other dogs by sniffing their asses and presenting his ass to be sniffed. He never tries to change the way his ass smells to please the other dogs.

Ti never remembers that I called him a bad dog yesterday when I found a pillow he chewed up, but he always remembers precisely where he buried the hambone.

Tiree has a scar on his left front paw from the time a kid crashed her trike into Ti and then rolled over his paw at the wrong angle. That paw has never been quite the same, but Ti does not fear or hate kids or tricycles.

When he is hungry, he eats. When he is tired, he sleeps.

There are humans who shave their heads and refuse any food served to them after noon because they want to be like my dog. Most of them are not anything like him and they will die before they even get close.

That is why I am calling this blog "Man's Best Friend."

I want many things. I want a new job. I want to get over this feeling I've had all my life of waiting for something—something I've never been able to identify. I want to be done with every secret I've invented to hide a secret that hides another secret.

I want the courage to be naked, to lose the shame that keeps me from seeing any other being.

Any other being except Tiresias, that is. Ti is wise. Ti sees me and he deems me OK.

Anyone can read this. No one will. I can say anything because it is completely public and completely anonymous. By writing everything down, I free myself of it.