Some say a dog's life is easier. Want to bet?

Some days I am the top dog,
other one's I'm the hydrant.
Some days are spent in dark
(not daring to sneeze or bark).
Circling, chasing my tail,
so indecisive, a blog.

Now my head is together
and my body's going to pits.
If I'm meant to touch my toes,
why aren't they on my elbows?
My wild oats have turned to bran,
prunes are all I can muster.

Like a dog, I'd nothing though
life begins when you've got it.
If I've had it all, lost it . . .
perhaps I'm absent-minded.
Age doesn't insure wisdom--
those wise teeth haven't risen.

The world beats a path to me
only when I stoop to squat.
Placing four paws on the ground
means sniffing stenches going 'round.
Careful where you aim your pee--
enemies will find your lot.

I have been collared and tamed,
finally got my license.
Someone else cleans up my mess
though I miss freedom, I rest
and have the means to survive.
Dogs, humans, live with pretense . . .

each envying the other--
but, every dog has his day.