The Saga of Bob

The Great Dog Experiment has ended.

I marvel at the existential battle between the two great forces of Perfectionism and Acceptance that takes place in my head on a daily basis.  This battle used to grind me up because every day I failed in my attempts to be perfect and because I failed so often I slipped into the habit of doing whatever I wanted.  If I couldn't be perfect I figured I could act out.  The difference today is that - while I still hold myself to this high ideal - I accept the fact that I'm going to fail often, and I'm okay with that.  Shoot for the stars, I say.  Don't be content if your armed robbery count drops from daily to weekly, I say.  Yes, quite an improvement but let's try to cut out the felonies completely.

The Bad Dog Owner assured us that he would pick up his dog Thursday morning.  This was before he dropped the dog off at which point it became Thursday afternoon.  At 3PM - total radio silence - I texted him.  He replied that he was in route and would arrive about 6PM.  I stifled the urge to petulantly point out that this would be Thursday evening, not Thursday afternoon, but at this point I was grateful that he was responding at all.  He texted again at about 6:45, pleading heavy traffic, before arriving after 7.

(Ed. Note:  He actually got there at 7 but the story is better if he arrives later.  I'm lying here to punch up the narrative, in other words).

SuperK and I had discussed the whole situation and agreed that we just needed to hand off the dog as pleasantly as possible.  We agreed that this guy is not at a level of spiritual development where I could complain about the dog's odor or point out that he really should be more responsive when someone else is doing you the favor of watching your animal.  The transfer went fine.  He was oblivious and we kept our mouths shut.  

The dog - we started to call him Bob because that's what we call all animals - was quite excited to see his master, then he came over and sat next to me.  I don't think this guy is a dog lover.  I think Bob is a furnishing.  I felt guilty at not paying more attention to Bob but I think I paid way more attention to him than his owner does. 

Shooting for perfection; failing often; sleeping well at night, at peace with my flaws. 

I saw the owner today and he wants to take us to lunch.  I deferred, demurely, hoping he'll forget about the offer.  I didn't like him before and I like him even less today.  I don't want to spend time with him.  I don't need someone to buy me lunch.  I can go buy my own lunch with SuperK and have a good time.

I kind of miss Bob today.