Life of a Dog Named Greg
So, yes, I will address the rumors: my name is in fact Greg, and yes, that
name is typically reserved for those of the human race, but my owner, who
happens to be named Spot, has a soft spot for irony. This reality has defined who
I am my entire ten years on this planet. And while we are on the subject, I am ten
years old. That means I am ten years old, not seventy. There is no such thing as
“dog years”; I repeat: there is no such thing as “dog years”. “Dog years” is
something that was just cooked up by suburban parents in a tough position in
order to make explaining to their only child why their dog, and best friend, died
at thirteen just a little bit easier. It’s a load crap.
But back to the main point, yes my name is Greg. I understand why this
name is considered to be a human name, but if were speaking honestly here, and
I think we are, it’s 2016, we should do away with human names and dog names.
We don’t need to label anything or anyone or make anyone feel bad. People
should be able to define themselves, and not have to be classified as this or that
by others. The reason why I think Greg is classified as a human name is purely
because it’s boring. Greg has no flavor. People named Greg really have no pizazz,
or energy. They’re just there. Now, this does not apply to the name Gregory. I
happen to know a golden retriever named Gregory and he is the life of the pound.
I don’t know why Gregs and Gregorys are so different, but they are. And don’t
argue with me on this, this is my domain.
Moving on now, I really have no idea why they asked me to speak here
today, in front of you all. They told me they would like it if I spoke generally
about my time as a canine, and more specifically my time as a canine with
person’s name. Everyone is so interested in my name, I mean Jesus, move on
with your lives. But, I am here, so the least I can do is what they want. It all
started back in ’09. I just turned three, which means twenty-one if I were to
succumb to the “dog years” phenomenon, and I got into the wrong group of pups.
I started to do everything you were told not to do at the doggy day-care. You
know, I started chasin’ tail, disobeying Spot, running away from home after Spot
would doze off while watching American Idol. I would always come back, that
was a definite, but the state I would be in was anything but. It was a rough time,
and things were only made tougher with a name like Greg. The other dogs, even
some of the other owners would laugh and call me names like the Amazing
Human Dog, or Hind Legs, or even Weak Nose Greg. These all got to me and
pushed me into a depression that felt like an inescapable box that was enclosed
all around me. But I am not here today to tell you a story about how I crumbled
and let all of my fears conquer me, I am here today to tell you all a story a
triumph, and how I conquered my fears and escaped from that dark, and lonely
box. And I did overcome, oh I did. And I did it with one word. One very special
word: fetch.
Fetch allowed me to sweat out all of my past, all of the toxins that once
controlled who I was as a dog. It allowed me to runaway from all those dogs, and
dog owners, who made fun of me for my human name. It allowed me to rekindle
my love with Spot, and it made us closer than we ever were before. The way he
would throw the ball, and the way I would bring it back. We were totally in sync.
It was almost hard to tell who was the dog and who was the human, especially
with names like Greg and Spot. Fetch came to me in the summer of 2012, and I
have not looked back. I have been clean for almost four years, and it is truly an
amazing feeling.
Nowadays, not only am I focused on my own health, but I also care about
the health of others. I actively donate to and help out the ASPCA Foundation as
much as I can, and I am also a spokesperson for the World Wildlife Foundation.
It is never to late to start giving back to your community, and it is truly never too
late to redefine yourself as a dog.
In my closing remarks, I want to leave you with something I have to come
learn over my ten years as a dog. Life is rough, and it may bark at you from time
to time, but don’t ever be afraid to bark back. You control your own destiny, so go
out there and grab it by the leash. Naptime is over; it’s time to take a walk. Thank
you!
PC: Jackie Ryu
