Now I Stay Out Of the Jaggy Bushes
Franco was a good dog. I got him at a farmers' market in Ohio just after moving to a mobile home where there was lots of room for him to run. I was living alone, and he became my best friend.
One time we were walking near the creek that bordered the rural mobile home
park. Franco wasn't on a leash. Something caught his attention in the brush up the creek. He perked his ears, and then started after it.
"Franco!" I commanded. He stopped and looked at me. Then he looked back to the brush. Then he looked at me. Then he took off.
I could see that he was weighing his options when I told him to stop. Hmmm. Should I return to my master's side and receive a pat on the head? Or should I run and explore an unknown something I can hear and smell? If I obey my master, I'll never know what I missed in the brush. If I chase the unknown temptation, my curiosity will be satisfied with just minor and short-lived repercussions. Sorry, master, but I'm going after the unknown pleasure.
Even after I realized my life was out of control because of my drinking, I still heard rustling in the bushes. I pretended there would be only mild repercussions. It would be more fun if I bought vodka and explored something exciting.
My wife was always angry when she caught me relapsing. She couldn't understand that attraction up stream and why I kept running toward it. Just stop and stay by my side, she commanded! Yeah but I heard and smelled a different master. Sorry, Honey! I will accept the repercussions later. They wouldn't be too bad. Chasing the bottle was more important at that moment when I heard the weeds rustling.
I learned the hard way there is nothing much fun in the brush. All I ever found were thistles, brambles, jaggers, tics, mosquitoes, and a little mud. God, keep me out of the weeds. When I make the right choices I feel ready now for that pat on the head.
One time we were walking near the creek that bordered the rural mobile homepark. Franco wasn't on a leash. Something caught his attention in the brush up the creek. He perked his ears, and then started after it.
"Franco!" I commanded. He stopped and looked at me. Then he looked back to the brush. Then he looked at me. Then he took off.
I could see that he was weighing his options when I told him to stop. Hmmm. Should I return to my master's side and receive a pat on the head? Or should I run and explore an unknown something I can hear and smell? If I obey my master, I'll never know what I missed in the brush. If I chase the unknown temptation, my curiosity will be satisfied with just minor and short-lived repercussions. Sorry, master, but I'm going after the unknown pleasure.
Even after I realized my life was out of control because of my drinking, I still heard rustling in the bushes. I pretended there would be only mild repercussions. It would be more fun if I bought vodka and explored something exciting.
My wife was always angry when she caught me relapsing. She couldn't understand that attraction up stream and why I kept running toward it. Just stop and stay by my side, she commanded! Yeah but I heard and smelled a different master. Sorry, Honey! I will accept the repercussions later. They wouldn't be too bad. Chasing the bottle was more important at that moment when I heard the weeds rustling.
I learned the hard way there is nothing much fun in the brush. All I ever found were thistles, brambles, jaggers, tics, mosquitoes, and a little mud. God, keep me out of the weeds. When I make the right choices I feel ready now for that pat on the head.
Comments
Post a Comment