One Nation, Under God
It’s a clear case of the inmates running the asylum.
I simply need to accept that.
My dogs tell me I’m too controlling.
Sit.
Stay.
Come.
Fetch.
I’m always directing them.
Or trying to.
Not that they pay a lot of attention.
They do their thing. I do mine.
My friends smile and shake their heads. They all use electronic collars on their dogs. Almost every bird hunter I see in the field follows suit, their Labs, pointers and spaniels performing beautifully on high-tech cue,
I’m still old school, relying on a whistle instead. Of course my tweets are accompanied by a lot of hollering, cus...
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