If I were a tattoo… where would I be?

“What you think, you become.” - Buddha

I have considered this quote for several mornings now, contemplating a direction to go with this prompt. I do not believe I have found a very good path forward with it, but neither have I “become it”, so there is that.

I think a lot about dogs, and have promised myself to do so even more in the future after finding this quote, in hopes of taking on their better, more loyal and intelligent character traits.

Ruff.

I also think a lot about tattoos... negatively, I must say. I can find no redeeming qualities in a tattoo, though I try, wanting to find one, as so many people are so proudly displaying them these days. (I have never seen a dog with a tattoo, for what that is worth. So see? I told you they were intelligent!) I have noticed that roughly 75-85% of young people and rednecks sport them, which I have decided is a good thing for society as a whole, as it makes it much easier to determine who are the high IQ people out there without having to bother conversing with any of them. It’s like that comedian says, “Here’s your sign!”

Since discovering this challenge, however, I am worried about the amount of time I spend concerning myself with the poor decisions of others, and fear that if The Buddha is right I might find myself plastered to some woman’s boob, or her ass someday, but then the naughty side of me thinks… wait! Would that be so bad? To be stuck forever to an ass, or a boob? And then I remember that yes, it would be so bad, as I next realize that I would be little more than a billboard on the ass or boob of a woman who has already disrespected her own body at least once, meaning I would likely have to suffer being suckled and slapped by a long train of tattooed men who are no wiser, and are probably even less wise, than the woman whose body I have the misfortune of being stamped upon. Eeee-gads, no!

Anyways, I’d best quit thinking about that. Pooky won’t like it.

And speaking of my Pook, I also think a lot about what will happen to her when I am gone, as I am no longer a kid. I am thankful to be one of those 15%-ers without a tattoo. Because of it I have had to sense to work hard, and to save. I have also invested what I saved, and those investments have grown, and I am happy that at least she wont have to worry about that. But what about all the other things that money can’t buy; things like companionship? And even simpler things than that, like how will she ever have a pickle on her hamburger without me, or empty the vacuum, or change out the soured hummingbird feeder water?

So, if The Buddha is right then, if I fixate long and hard enough on those things, does that mean I will be around forever for her? To open up the pickle jar?

At least it is a thought worth thinking, and worth becoming, even though it proves that not even The Buddha can be right about everything.

And on that note… is time to go feed the dog. The tattoo-less little guy has me trained well.

Ruff.