When I was a wee baby in my mother’s womb, I was a very weak foetus, and I suspect, a bit depressive. During labour, the doctors had trouble getting me out, seeing as how I had suffocated myself with my own umbilical chord. Attempted foetal suicide? Perhaps.
In the process, I kind of died for a few minutes. They put me on artificial resuscitation and eventually, I came back to the party. Now, during that time, here’s what I think happened.
My depressive soul had left my body and everyone Up there was all ” Oh, we lost one!” until in the last minute when they realised they had made a mistake. Then they had to quickly supply a substitute soul. The soul that was available immediately was that of a dog.
And so, on the outside, I am a woman. Inside, I am a big fat Labrador. I am lazy, like to sleep all the time, cannot keep myself from food, wag my tail for everyone until I get kicked, and pretty much sell out to cuddles and love. O, and I am loyal like a dog, too. If you hurt someone I love, I WILL bite you.