This is a big task, even for a dog of my abilities.
I chose a young human to be my translator instead of an adult for obvious reasons—you can still teach a young human but old ones just can’t learn anything new. All dogs know this.
So, I start with puppy steps—just trying to see the world afresh by making up some nice, new words.
After all, why use the same boring words all the time? My finely-tuned dog-brain rebels at the very thought!
However, when I make up new words, my human translator, whose name is Laura (though I call her ‘Laoorel) always complains.
“That’s not a word, Perdita,” she says. “You have to use real words.”
That’s not a word! Can you believe it? She’s just a little human, but they are already closing up her mind with a wall of ‘don’ts.’
Real words . . . give me a break!
Well, why aren’t my linguistical creations real words? Why are my words not as good as any others? I call ‘Laura’ by a much better name because it sounds so much better—more musicish, more melodyful, more warmish. Laoorel, you see, is better than mere Laura.
Do you see how wonderful it is to make up words to express yourself? It unboxes the brain. It flings wide your brain-doors. It unwalls your ears.
Why would you WANT to be squashed and borificated by the same old human words day after day, year after year? (Or hemmed in by the same places, or smells? Or sounds?)
I’m a dog, and to me the world is always new, fresh and exciting. I am NOT bored. Dogs do not even know what “bored” means. It’s not in the Bark dictionary.
Why not follow my brilliant lead and invent a few words today? It will help you be as creative as your dog is. Sort of. It will be a start, anyway.
Of course there is much more you could do to learn to live as free as a dog, but I KNOW you won’t get down on your dog’s level to look at things from a new perspective, and I KNOW you’ll think this is silly, since you are probably a human with a brain boxed in by all those years of “don’ts.”
But, just read my books and try to do things, think things, see things, hear things—even SMELL things in a new way. (I’m sorry about that last one because I know your human nose knows so little . . . but you can TRY!)
Here’s a nice little example of what I mean. When you see a beautiful flower, why call it the same old thing? Instead of calling it a “pretty yellow flower,” couldn’t it be a yellowbomb? Or a flasherific colorized vision of wonderfullness?
Those are simple wordbombs, but they are a start.These are not even new words, but just inventifications of new clombinational-combobulations of a wordmash.
No more boring words might lead to no more boring people! That’s my goal.
Wouldn’t that be great?
Wouldn’t it be bebobbled wondermushed? Wouldn’t it be excellojello? Wouldn’t it be splasherific?
Well . . . wouldn’t it?