I can’t say it’s anything I would want to do. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good piece of literature as much as the next dog, but not like this. I overheard mom today talking about joining a book club this year and I think I fell asleep at the thought.
I can think of so many better ways for her to spend her time (like on walks with me, taking me to the dog park, or basically doing anything involving me) than at a book club. I had to talk myself back from this one though, since I respect that reading brings her joy. I want her to do things that make her happy, even if (gasp) they don’t all involve me.
But again my thoughts turned to that phrase about a book and its cover. A strong believer in the book (not so much in the cover), I’ve never been that big a fan of the expression. I’ve been called a lot of things based on my appearance – namely that I’m a mutt. Over time, I have come to see this as a term of endearment rather than anything derogatory because I know who I am and have confidence in myself.
Not everyone is that fortunate. I think a lot of people are really good at crafting a beautiful cover that doesn’t always match what is happening on the pages of their lives. Most heartbreakingly, my mind turns to those who surround themselves with people (in a crowded city, busy work environment or on frequent social outings). Sure, there are those that are truly happy. But sometimes it is these people, these friends of everyone, who are the most lonely of all.
If being an observer of two-leggers has taught me anything it’s that. You can’t judge a book by it’s cover. You never know how lonely or happy or depressed or elated a person is based on what their exterior tells you. Because that cover might be just that – a cover for something completely different hiding inside.
Forget book club (sorry mom). People. From the ground up, they are the books I like reading.