Life is funny, ya know. I mean, I’m just a dog, right? And I’m expected to give some kind of advice, some kind of commentary every time Amy or Charlie have trouble in the land of love. I’m just a dog, I tell them. But they don’t seem to care. They continue with the rant, and each of them have a rant so important that I can’t nap, I can’t look for cats, mice, or even eat without them following me all over the house. Is this normal? I mean, wasn’t I supposed to be for cuddling, holding so close to add warmth? Were they not supposed to tell me how cute I was every time they saw me? I don’t get that anymore. I think they are going through a scratch patch–in our terms, a relationship problem. But that is how we work. Brozios and bruzias, all the same: they need to see each other as bounce boards, something they can reach out for when they have trouble. They can also be there for one another when times are good.
Now these scratch patches are frequently occur when their is a new fence to jump. Sometimes it takes four of five missed jumps to go over that fence; the other three or four jumps are only smashed faces against the fence. But, that’s how we learn, right? Failure on our way to success–that’s what I’m talking about. In a relationship, I tried to tell them, there will always be problems: who gets the pillow tonight? Who get the last treat? Who decided how long the nap will be? These are all questions we all ask.