Seriously, I recently did catch myself feeling sorry for myself, that the grand plans I had when I was young just never came to fruition. I never did a lot of the cool stuff that I thought I was destined to accomplish.
Then I looked around, and saw 24 sets of eyes watching me. And realized that in lamenting my lost past, I was mentally binning a present in which 24 dogs who would otherwise have been killed are living to show their love.
There's more, I guess - books that would not have been written, et cetera, but I stop with the dogs.
Their options - or lack therof - were real. Life and death, blood and bone.
So, youthful dreams, goodbye.
And good riddance. I'm gonna go throw a stick, and see who gets it first.
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