hard working animal

I got paid an exceptional complement the other day. Someone said they were impressed with my work ethic, and that I was an animal.

The individual paying the complement went on to ponder exactly what sort of work ethic an animal hath...

As the owner of an Australian Shepherd... I know a bit about working animals.
Psycho dog is not happy unless she has some job to throw her heart and soul and energies into. Even if that job is just catching a frisbee out of the air again and again and again and again. (Though, she'd be much happier with a herd of sheep, or something.)

The thing about psycho dog... she doesn't know how to just hang out with others. At the park, when other dogs come up to say "hi, wanna play" she has no idea what to do with them and prefers to throw herself into her 'job' (ie, catching said frisbee out of the air again and again and again and again.)

Anyhow, it just got me thinking, because I have not been a very good friend lately. That impressive work ethic, me throwing myself into a quick succession of deadlines, etc... There are times when I wonder that I do that as avoidance. As coping mechanism to survive the difficulties of human interaction.

Pay this no mind. This is just post-midnight ramblings from a brain that is refusing to wind down for the day.

Anyhow... Random, but I have now cut several throats in a recent project. For your entertainment, a glimpse at the bloodshed: