Everyday Victories

Yes, I watch the Olympics. They're better than sport because "sport" has been defined as NFL football, World Cup Soccer, NBA basketball, and pro baseball -- and for this dog that's not sport. That's a good reason to snooze under the coffee table and wait for pizza scraps.

Sports today is when overweight, obnoxious people sit around and watch uninspired, overpaid, functional illiterates try to balance their recreational and performance-enhancing drug intake with a teetering emotional life structure. These are people (this dog can't call them athletes) who don't have a tenth of the skill necessary to drive their fancy cars, have trouble coping with problems they can't buy their way out of, and think the rest of us dogs ought to pay outrageous prices to sit in the stands and watch them phone in their performances.

You could randomly swat any one of them with a rolled up newspaper and they would deserve it. They are the consummate wasters of our Sunday afternoons and Monday nights, giving us little in return except the core ingredients to create post-game drivel which we employ when we don't want to have a real conversation with family, co-workers and friends.

And worst of all, humans are under immense pressure from the earliest age, to participate in these "sports." I don't know how human kids do it. No self-respecting dog would subvert the true meaning of sport in this way.

People with arthritis, at least the ones I've met are glad to escape this emotionally abusive and physically demeaning part of life. They can't run away fast enough. And I don't blame them. Run. Run like the wind. And while you're at it, jump over a few hurdles on the way, because I think, after watching my fair share of arthritics from a dog's-eye view, people without natural talent, people with obvious physical reasons for not playing sports, are the best athletes. That's right. And that's why the Olympics, the Para Olympics, Gay Games, and the Army Navy football game are so much fun to watch and participate in.

It's about people who sacrifice, who postpone their daily desires for something greater. It is ultimately a solitary sacrifice for the satisfaction of trying to be the best.

For some of us getting to the bathroom in the morning is the best we can do. When I can lift my paw high enough to scratch the door and then get through it before the storm door hits me in the ass, I know I'm doing my best.

I get the biggest charge out of watching someone win who wasn't supposed to win. The one the human kids made fun of because she didn't grow like the rest of them, or because she was in a wheel chair for a few months, or because he was gay and "sissies" don't play sports, or any of a hundred reasons idiot humans make up so they don't have to be nice to fellow humans. So they don't have to touch noses. I love it when these humans win because the people who think they own sports, the body beautifuls, tried to convince everyone, through their arrogance, that sports belongs to them.

So many athletes in the Para Olympics, and Gay Games, as well as the Olympics, weren't supposed to be the best. They didn't have the natural ability; they had physical impairments. They were refused entrance to traditional sports teams. But they did it, and I'll tell you, when I see someone who isn't supposed to be at the top and then they are, I want to run up and lick their beautiful face. They are an athlete. They have brought their heart and desire, as well as their muscles, to the game, and they make all us dogs richer for it.

One person told me the physical pain of living with arthritis was infinitely easier than the emotional pain of trying to play sports. He meant it and that's too bad because I know that playing sports is infinitely easier than getting through his day.

You see, humans aren't very smart (even though they're smart enough to read this). They create their own reality that prevents them from being their best. Dog brains are much better at succeeding. If you don't believe me, try to get a human to herd sheep, or find his way home without a GPS, or pull a dog sled across Alaska. It takes a special kind of brain that doesn't create false obstacles. A brain that says if a dog can live with all the bull arthritis throws at you, sports are easy. "You mean all I have to do is swim across a pool, run around a track, or master martial arts. Pud work compared with putting on my socks, and facing the side effects of my medicine." (OK dogs don't wear socks, but we do take medicine.)

The one thing that makes an unlikely person wind up at the top is that their brain didn't put obstacles in their way. I've seen purebred dogs that can't get the lid off a trash can, but even with my arthritis, I can get the lid off and the bag torn open before the motion detector turns on the floodlights. Why? Because I want the table scraps inside. The scraps of victory. Pain is pain. Smart dogs win with it. Dumb dogs are the mascots.