The One and Only Bob

by Katherine Applegate

That’s what being man’s best friend can get you. A black highway. An empty box. And no one in the world but you.

It’s amazing how much the sheer will not to die can keep you moving.

The way I understand things, it’s like this. We live on a lonely ball called Earth, and humans have basically been throwing it against the wall for so long that the poor ol’ ball is falling apart.

trying to toss off the stench of nightmare that clung to me like shampoo after a bath.

It’s as if the air is up to no good, sneaking up on the world and looking for trouble.

We analyze the air the way humans read poetry, searching for invisible truths.

We smell feelings, too. Sad has a sharp scent, with an undertone of sweetness. Sad smells like being lost in a winter forest as the sun goes down.

And happy? Happy is the best, but there’s a touch of wistfulness around the edges. Happy smells like bacon ice cream served up in an expensive leather shoe.

Humans love it when we get silly. I think they’re so weighed down by people problems that sometimes they need to be reminded what happy looks like.

Dogs understand more than you might think. The nature channel says we’re about as smart as the average human toddler.

Dogs ain’t perfect. But I’ll tell you one thing where we rule: tolerance.

You don’t see that with humans, obviously. Constantly seeing differences where none exist. All those things like skin color? Dogs could care less.