I must be overly broad today in what I write. Also, for the umpteenth time, this is my opinion. In due time, I’ll point you back to this post and it will all come together for you. If all goes as scheduled, you can expect this in late-summer but probably later. For now, just consider this to be the set-up for a future punchline… so to speak.
For my part, I gave every opportunity for people to reconsider. Many times over many months, I did. I held out until the end, practically giving a golden invitation to not bring this dog into the mix. Time-after-time trying to send the message: Are you really sure you want to do this? I’m not sure the rationale, but these people went forward despite my obvious caution for them to take a step back and reconsider. I wonder if they thought there was something I didn’t want known about my dog? It’s a good dog, that’s all I know.
For the love of Pete, haven’t I been an open book enough for them to see this is not so? I have NOTHING to hide or shy away from, my dog included. Did they ever stop to consider that I was not wanting this dog to be put through more stress. I love this dog with all my heart and hated this to happen, even if it would help my other dog.
I honestly thought these people were just messing with me — trying to wear me down — and would pull out at the last-minute. That would be fine by me. I would even recognize this as something I might do and respect that approach for what it was. Well, in the end, they just wouldn’t let it drop. They messed with me… and my beloved dog.
This dog will come back to bite them. It’s been unleashed… by them, none-the-less!
I can only image what it will be like if they ever understand this (likely) tactical error. Hell, it’s one of those times that I would use something I say only rarely… I told you so! I might even add a “dumbass!” somewhere into that exclamation. Actually, I know I will. “I told you so, dumbass! Oh… In my opinion.” I imagine them sitting in a seedy bar with their suits shined to a high-gloss sheen, crying in their beers. Maybe killing a few brain cells to take the edge off. That’s okay, I suppose, because by every indication (that I can tell) is they don’t use them anyhow.
Okay, by now you can tell I’m a bit put-off that my dog was rubbed the wrong way. I apologize that I can’t be specific today, but this post is to set-up a future one.
Here’s the wisdom in all this. A lesson that’s been around forever because of its obvious insight: It is best to let sleeping dogs lie.