Left holding the bag
January 10, 2012
We run, and when you feel I have gone far enough you pull the leash tight, knocking me off my feet to the ground and bottomed out. Pavlov’s rule doesn’t apply – there is no consistency in the signal, I have no idea how long that leash is day to day and no treat to invite me to come.
From the dirt, I sometimes learn the why for a particular yank. You offer a hand and help up and with it you transfer a bag for me to carry. A bag full of bad memories and bitter feelings.
We run, but I am slower, can’t go some of the places I would like to because of it. It isn’t a simple choice to let it go. That choice was eliminated years ago, should have been sooner but it took some time for me to believe that. What choice is left but taking off the leash?
