Sam was walking his dog Skip in the park. As they neared a bench, the little spaniel pulled back on his leash and looked up at his owner.

“Sit down, Sam,” ordered Skip.

Sam stared at his pooch and tried to catch his breath.

“Did you just say something?”

“Sit down, Sam. We have to have a talk. Yeah, that was me. I’ll explain about my talking later. Sit down.”

Sam plopped himself onto the bench.

“So let me ask you. Do you know why you upset your family so much of the time?”

“I don’t care. They upset me much of the time.”

Skip then told Sam a story about his canine friends at the shelter, and about why all of them were taken to loving homes.

“You see Sam, dogs are wired differently than people. Why do people love us so much? It’s a simple answer. We don’t have expectations of our owners. We’re loyal forever. Our owners can get everything from us they don’t get from people. We love unconditionally. We never argue or complain. We eat the same food every day and we like it. Dogs don’t care that their owners came home late at night or they didn’t have time to take us for a walk and we don’t get angry if our owner forgets to fill our water bowl for two days.”

“OK, so I forgot,” said Sam. “I had a lot on my mind. You didn’t die of thirst, did you?”

“You see, Sam, that remark is exactly what I’m talking about. I told you I didn’t care that you forgot to fill my bowl, but you thought I was complaining. You made up an excuse to avoid feeling blame or guilt. Don’t you think that accepting blame and feeling guilt have all but disappeared from the human race? No one takes blame for something they do wrong, and anyone can justify his actions so not to feel guilt.

Skip continued, “When you screamed at Karen yesterday for doing something stupid, instead of feeling guilty that you hurt your sister’s feelings, you blamed her for making you angry and it was her fault that she cried.”

“Did you go to dog college to become a therapist, or something?” Sam asked.

“Just because we chase our tails or fetch a ball for hours doesn’t mean we’re simple-minded. And the big secret about us is that all dogs can talk, but we choose not to because we watch people all the time ruin their relationships when they open their mouths and say stuff they can’t take back. Sooner or later, somebody gets told to leave the house and not return. Dogs can’t afford to be kicked out the door.”

Sam scratched his head. “So you’re telling me I should act like a dog? Take blame. Feel guilt and shut up.”

“The other day when I chewed Mom’s slipper,” said Skip, “she yelled at me and I felt bad because she was upset and disappointed. I don’t ever want to disappoint someone who loves me.”

Sam’s eye’s opened wide.

“Remember the time you were in a hurry to see your friends,” said Skip, “and you backed Dad’s car into a pole at the end of the driveway? He got upset and you shouted back at him that it was an accident and it was no big deal. He told you not to worry and that he would get it fixed.

“It wasn’t the car that got Dad upset, Sam. You disappointed him with your awful attitude. You should have said you were sorry. You should have understood his feelings.”

Sam lowered his head. “You see Sam,” said Skip. “You hurt your sister and your dad and they love you despite how you treat them. If I upset Mom and Dad, I lick their faces and just like that all is forgiven and forgotten.”

“You’re a manipulator, is what you are,” said Sam. “You do what you have to do to get what you want.”

“Like I said, dogs are wired differently than people. Perhaps you can learn some things from me.”

“We’d better start heading back,” said Sam.

“So do I get a treat when we get home because I helped you understand yourself today?” Skip asked.

“Sure,” said Sam as they crossed the street.

“How about a piece of the steak you’re going to eat for dinner tonight?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“How about you tell Jennie to walk her cute Lilly pooch to the park tomorrow and we can meet them there?”

“Now you’re talking,” said Sam. “She is a cutie.” He looked down at Skip. “I mean Jennie, not the dog.”

When they approached their street, Jennie was outside getting her mail.

“Here’s you chance,” Sam said to Skip. “You can ask her yourself about walking her ‘cute little Lilly’ to the park.”

“Hi, Sam,” said Jennie with a wave. She walked over to where Skip was wagging his tail.

“My dog has a question to ask you,” Sam said.

Skip barked three times. Jennie laughed. She bent down and Skip licked her face. “Hey Sam, I’m gonna walk Lilly to the park tomorrow about 2 o’clock. You and Skip wanna join us?”

“Sure,” said Sam. “We’ll see you then.” Jennie smiled and walked back to her house.

“See what I mean?” Skip said. “Works all the time.”

“Let’s go home,” said Sam, pulling gently on Skip’s leash. “I have some faces I need to lick.”

Rich Strack can be reached at katehep11@gmail.com.