all dogs have a job, and their jobs are important to them. sometimes there are miscommunications about the actual job description. for example, our dog, a scruffy toy poodle, has thought his job is to notify us (and the neighborhood), in an ascending yapping frenzy whenever another dog or a child in a stroller passes our fence. but recently his real job, his higher calling, has become clear to him.
he is a lap dog. he has always been a lap dog, but it was a casual thing, a preference, a way to while away the time. but now he has taken it to a higher level, a mission. somehow he knows that he must now--at all times--be lying on me or, if he absolutely can't be on some part of my body, he must be pressed up next to me in a hard little ball of alertness. he has been waiting all thirteen years of his little dog life to be called to his vocation and he is ready. he is... Cancer Dog.