Dogs often wonder what humans think about as they go about their days, and do what it is that humans do.  It's hard for the average dog to appreciate the complexity that has arisen in the brains of animals like homo sapiens.  Language, symbolism and culture enriches the developing human brain in such a way that abstract information causes the formation of new concepts, which in turn feed back and cause the formation of additional new concepts.  If you're feeling a little loopy in might be due to all of those neurons talking to each other; exchanging data, firing and resting, storing and dispensing memories, while all of the while "you" are blissfully ignorant of all of the background noise and cellular machinations.  We dogs experience this ourselves, at a simpler level.  Our lack of scientific training (myself excluded, of course), allows most of us to live life at an earthy level.  We don't seek explanations for where our "I" comes from. We're loopy in our own way, as when we're chasing our tails. (We do this only because it always draws your interest to us, and makes you laugh).  To us dogs, you humans are the strange loops, with your notion that you possess some nonmaterial essence that separates you from the rest of us animals. It's okay, we know we can't really appreciate what goes on in your minds, but to your best friends, you just look like another type of  loopy animal, albeit a more complicated one.

     As I've become more humanlike in my thinking, I've started to wonder where my "I" came from.  Was I born with a certain ethereal dog soul, destined to be named Buffy, a wise mind in the body of a kindly Standard Poodle?  Or did my "I" ness develop from the blank slate I was at birth into the highly conscious dog I am today; as a result of physical processes which allowed the formation of abstractions, which eventually formed the mythical, yet obviously very physical, "me", Buffy!  At the level of the everyday pet dog, these questions don't usually present themselves to our consciousness.  We're more concerned about physical realities like food, water and shelter and whether the rabbits are going to take over the back yard.  I have come to appreciate it's much more difficult being a human.  Having these questions of interiority occupying your minds all of the time must be distracting.  This may be one of the reasons that you don't take your dogs for walks and exercise often enough.  I imagine that all of that thinking makes you feel loopy after awhile.  I suggest you look at your pet as an escape from the need to maintain that complicated facade of an "I" you've created, and get down on an animal level with us. We are humble, simple creatures. Most of us anyway.
Buffy
A Unique Strange Loop