My dog walks from room to room very slowly, or stands in the backyard at night and stares silently into the darkness of the bush with the hairs on his back bristling.
I think he may be on to something.
He's usually right, because a day or so after creeping around like this, black clouds arrive, followed by thunder and lightning, and the sky really does fall down.
Just because we can't see or touch the coming storm doesn't mean it's not going to happen.
Some people seem to be ignoring the warning signs and living every day as if it's their last, because that's what Geronimo or Ray Charles said.
Mind you, Muhammad Ali said the same thing, and so did Breaker Morant and Steve Jobs. The internet can be a confusing place when it comes to finding the truth, or the origin of a good quote. Which is why I listen to my dog more than the internet.
If you truly lived every day as if it was your last, you would tell your boss they're a stuffed shirt with the communcations skills of a fish and walk out the door with an extended finger. You would max out your credit card and finally call your brother-in-law a right-wing nutjob. You'd smash your great aunt's lovely china and burn the oak chest of drawers she left you.
That's just about what we're doing to our planet at the moment, but the storm is coming.
Life without consequences is no way to live, because there's always a tomorrow. You might not be here to see it — but your children will.
My dog knows this.
He flips the Steve Jobs mantra on its head, and lives every day as if it's his first.
He is in a constant state of awe and wonder and curiosity, particularly about the price of chicken necks and the things he can't see.
My advice to people who want to continue burning coal and continue as if this is their last day on earth is: get a dog and have a chat. And watch the hairs on the back of its neck. They will tell a story of stormy weather and possibly no more chicken necks. Ever.