“We are the only animal dumb enough to not be where we are.”
The words popped out in the barber chair at Great Clips when Dee, the barber (I still call them barbers), told me that the person who had sat in the chair before me had spent her whole time playing on her iPhone. Never said a word. Never looked up. It sure seemed to Dee that her client was there…in the barber’s chair…but she was somewhere else, while the barber with the real scissors that were cutting her real hair in the real chair at the real Great Clips in the real Chaska Commons was…well…not there. How dumb is that! “We humans are the only animal dumb enough to not be where we are.”
I spend my days alone with my dogs. Maggie and Sebastian live where they are. They don’t miss a trick – no pun intended; they’re not very well-trained – but they pay attention to every little thing. Every movement I make, every bird that flies across the window, every word spoken, every sound that might hint that Mom’s home, or that Dad is leaving…or taking them for a walk…or a ride in the car. They live where they are.
Sometimes they have to bark to jerk me away from my desk when I pretend I’m not there, checking my emails, surfing the web, or writing a story. They know I don’t know how to be where I really am. They know that I’m not as smart as they are, but they’re forgiving of my chronic weakness. They never look down on me.
We human animals think we’re so smart. We are. But what have we lost in ADHD heaven? If it hadn’t been for Maggie and Sebastian, I might not know; the words would never have popped out of my mouth in Dee’s barber’s chair.
When I got home, I shared with my furry companions the conversation with Dad’s groomer and what I had said: “We are the only animal dumb enough to not be where we are.” They were proud of Dad. I returned to my computer and ADHD heaven. They came along side the desk, gave me their paws, and said in unison, “We’re always here for you, Dad.” Then they asked if it was time to go for a ride in the car.