My dog finds sloth intolerable. If I attempt to sit on the sofa and ‘work’ on my laptop, he lets loose an embittered bark. However, if I do physical labor – mop the floor, fix the furniture, dig in the garden; he is content. This is the proper way to spend daylight hours. When he is ready to sleep he demonstrates similar dogmatism. He paces the house, annoyed, until every person is upstairs and in his or her proper place. Then he flops contentedly into a circle of canine repose and rests until adequate action draws his attention at dawn.
When he accompanies me to the locale where I receive pay for my non-physical labor, he prefers to watch the traffic (as above) to the doldrums of humans at their desks. His definition of work more closely resembles Karl Marx’s than Max Weber’s. His breed comes from the borderlands of Scotland and England. I suspect he adheres to a Scottish Enlightenment variant of the labor theory of value: one part Calvinism, one part capitalism, and entirely canine.