Hope

I've had lots of pets over the years, known many other animals familiarly too. All those cows and chickens and ducks that my farmer relatives kept and those wild critturs I've been able to identify as acquaintances have made their impressions on me. All of them exhibited to my satisfaction lots of characteristics we tend to think of as "human". They want, they love, they hate, they defend, they are loyal, and they love a good time (and I am quite sure a simple joke). I have also seen shame. What I have never seen, however, is hope. I have instead seen expectation,-but not hope. If as they say "all dogs go to heaven", then I believe it's because they cannot imagine any other alternative. To them life is everything.

 Now, all this leads me to a natural bit of pondering, to wit: How come we humans indulge ourselves in such a seeming excess of Hope. I mean. Really. Do we not have sufficient unsupportive evidence? And yet we do hope. I think, maybe, this is what sets us apart, as we of course would have it, but in this case perhaps we are not wrong. Let us say that I have never been as stalwart a patriot as my Yorkshire Terrier is a dog, but I always have the "hope" of being better. He on the other hand is confident. And that may be it. He has no doubt, and is therefore confident, while I, doubtful, must scrounge for confidence. Therefore it must be human to be uncertain.

 Let us then be wary of humans who are certain. They may be flying false colors.

Pirate!

Sa-lute,
Daddy