Don't Tell Me What to Do

The last straw was the vinegar.

The groceries were paid for and bagged.  Time to head out of the store. That's when I saw the jug of vinegar on the bottom rack of the grocery cart.  I'd forgotten to put it on the conveyor belt.  The person behind me already had half of her groceries rung up.  I suggested to Cashier and Bag Boy that they return the vinegar to the shelf when things slowed down.

"No, no," said the cashier, grabbing the jug of vinegar.  "Three isn't busy".  

"You're not listening,"  I muttered, following the cashier and the vinegar to Checkout 3.  She sure wasn't because before I knew it, the number three cashier had rung up the vinegar.  There was a customer on Checkout 3 just unloading the last of her groceries.  I apologized to her.

"Have a nice day," said original cashier.  "Have a nice day," said number three cashier.

I took my puppies to "puppy class".  It's a nice way to expose them to other dogs, socialization, and all that.  Besides, a little brush up on training techniques never does me any harm. (Or so I used to think.)

"You should clicker train your dogs,"  said the instructor, handing me clicker.  (Free with your enrollment in 6 weeks of doggy school!  I've got a collection of them already.)

I explained that I've tried clicker training and find it adds another layer of difficulty what with juggling the clicker and the leash and getting the timing right.  I've found using my voice is more effective.

"But you can teach your dog so much better with a clicker,"  the instructor declared.

One of my neighbors, self appointed social secretary, informed me that another neighbor wanted to meet me and my dogs.  Though I had no particular desire for this confrontation, er, ordeal, er, get together, in the spirit of neighborliness, I agreed that the two women could come to my home for the, er, introductions.

Social secretary neighbor suggested she bring some dessert!  I told her that this would be a brief meeting and we would not even be sitting down during it, let alone eating (though I said it a little nicer than that).

There we were, the, er, pleasantries underway, the resident ducks could be seen wandering around the grounds.

"You should pen those ducks," neighbor told me.  "They could get taken out by a predator." 

Pointing to the duck house, I told her that they are confined there at night when the risk of dying by predator is most likely.

"Foxes come right up, even during the day,"  neighbor said. 

Ducks need to walk around and forage for bugs, I countered.  Yes, there are risks to allowing them free range.  Sure, stuck in a pen all the time might keep them from being attacked by a fox, but I have decided to let them roam, let them be ducks.    

"There are hawks too,"  neighbor added.

I find the Serenity Prayer works best after a rant.



God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.