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 th...