Title - An Afternoon with Harry (5 pages)

Harry is bored

It's funny how your priorities can get all twisted around, how easy it is to forget what's really important in life.

That's the difference between people and dogs. Dogs don't have this problem. They know how to be happy.

Take me and Harry, for example. Harry can get by with just the basics of food, water, and a place to sleep. He likes to have something to chew on, but that can be anything from a pine cone to an old shoe. It's all the same to Harry. He makes the most of what he has and he's happy.

Me, on the other hand, I spend entirely too much time and money on pointless pursuits, all of which inevitably cause me more aggravation than happiness. Most of them involve expensive gadgets with flashing lights and a lot of buttons - like this computer for example.

When the gadgets don't produce the promised happiness, I usually figure it's because I need a newer, bigger, faster gadget. I waste more time and money and the vicious circle continues.

Throughout a long and miserable winter, I had spent way too much time sitting in front of one noise making box or another. Harry couldn't figure out what I found so fascinating. He just shook his head and went back to chewing. He was right of course. Simpler is better.

In all fairness, I wasn't the only one who was getting worn down by the winter. Harry wasn't too enthusiastic about the great outdoors during the long dark days of February. It doesn't take a whole lot of snow to be up to chest level on a Corgi.

It's also pretty hard to play ball in the snow, because the ball won't roll, and it doesn't bounce. We'd try, but my enthusiasm disappeared as my boots filled with snow. My toes would get cold and into the house I'd go, to sit in front of the television set or the computer, stagnating as vigorously as possible.

Harry would stay out a bit longer, but the cold is hard to take and there's not much fun to be had when you're all alone. Eventually he'd bark to be let in and then he'd lie at my feet while I wasted time. Occasionally he'd let out a dramatic sigh of boredom like only he can manage.