Thirsty?

 Your dog has no idea where their fresh water comes from.

They just know that when their throat is feeling a little parched, or if they need a drink to wash down some kibble, or if they’re just bored, they saunter to the water dish and it’s filled with fresh, clean, cool water with which to slake their thirst. (Or water with ice, if your dog is particularly spoiled/loved).

The expression of joy bordering on ecstasy on the face of your favorite pup after they drink illuminates the room. They went to their dish, lapped up some refreshment, and they turn to you with such an expression of bliss as to say, “I cannot believe how amazing the world is and how fortunate I am that I am blessed to have been able to partake in such a magical life moment!” Or words to that effect.

Their response is not to run over to hug your leg and say, “Thank you, dear friend, for having done such a kind and wonderful thing for me!” It is simple joy and gratitude that the water (with ice) was there.

Yum!

They usually aren’t even around while we’re doing it. They’re either napping somewhere, or out chasing squirrels, or getting into the bathroom garbage can while we’re not looking. They just know that when that moment of thirst comes, the water is there and life is good.

Sometimes we get to witness this joy and that is our reward. Often, however, we don’t see it. We just glance at the dish and notice that the volume has diminished and surmise that our beloved canine friend has partaken during the day.

So why do we do it?

Aside from the obvious life sustaining need to provide our furry friends with liquid, we go the extra steps of cleaning the dish, running the water until it reaches an appropriately cool and refreshing temperature, before filling the bowl. Again, if your buddy is particularly (properly) pampered, you add ice to ensure it retains the cooling and refreshing properties longer.

Sometimes this is, frankly, a pain in the ass. We just want to dump the dish and run tepid water into it, just to have the chore completed. But we don’t do that. Because we love our critters, whether we get to see them enjoy the watery fruits of our labors or not.

Again…why do we do this?

Because we love them. We want them to feel some of the joy we feel when they snoodle up next to us on the couch or in bed, to feel appreciated the way they make us feel appreciated when they respond to our re-entry into the house as though we were the greatest of God’s majestic creations.

It doesn’t matter if they previously opened Christmas gifts well before December 25th (or 24th, if you’re a cretin). We don’t care if they pooped on the rug that time we left them in the house too long or if they shredded our favorite pillow.

We don’t take the time and care to give them fresh water as our end of a transaction of love. That’s not how our arrangement works. They do some stuff we like and some we don’t. It doesn’t matter. We still give them fresh water (with ice, if you have a soul) and we do it gladly.

We do it because we have been blessed to share a walk along life’s path with them for a spell, and we want them to be happy. We do it out of simple, pure, and unmitigated love.

Here’s a thought: Wouldn’t the world be a happier and all-around better place if we treated each other the same way?

What if we decided that, deservedly or not, we were going to give everyone else in the world a metaphorical drink of cool, crisp water. Hell, let’s go all out and even include a little ice to make it even more refreshing.

It wouldn’t matter if they knew who did the nice thing or if no one ever bothered to thank you. If we just all set out a dish of cool water everywhere we went, so that no matter who came along, it would be there for them.

Wouldn’t it make you happy if you were thirsting for some positivity, only to find that someone had left a dish of it somewhere along your daily path?

Whaddya say?