I am one of life’s worriers. I worry about things that might happen, have happened, won’t happen. At times (usually at night, when everything seems worse, as my mum says) I torment myself. I am fully aware of my limitations and I am a huge wimp.
I watch Mort, and I envy him. Dogs don’t worry, or fret, or analyse things at all. They do what feels right, and don’t give a tiny toss what anyone thinks. I bet Mort doesn’t wake up at three in the morning, worrying about the next day. He looks life square in the face, and says “BRING IT.”
I’ve decided to try and be more like this. I’m not going to copy everything Dachshunds do – you won’t drive past my house to see me bouncing around on the windowsill, shouting abuse at you.
I won’t walk the perimeter of my garden, biting the heads off all the flowers.
And I definitely won’t launch myself like a rocket at any pigeon that strays into my territory, screaming, what I can only imagine in Dachshund-speak is: “Die, feathered beast, DIE!” And then bellowing after them, as they flap away, the warning: “SH*T JUST GOT REAL!!”
I will, however, attempt to live life in the moment. I won’t worry what people think. If Mort did this, he’d probably never leave the house. And I won’t immediately think: “I can’t do that,” or “That’s not possible.” I might be average-sized, with no upper body strength and feet the size of canoes, but so what. (Besides, no one will be laughing in an ice age. Large surface area, people – you do the maths).
Something tells me that the Dachshund in this video isn’t bothered by her size. In the future, when I’m faced with something that seems bigger than me and insurmountable, I will think: “What would the deer-chasing Dachshund do?”
She’d chase them deer. And she’d chase ‘em good.