Impulse control disorder. It’s a problem – in which someone has an
inability to resist an urge, or temptation. And they could cause harm to
themselves or others. I have it. When it comes to bunnies.
Yesterday morning, while my human was
having breakfast, I happened to look out the deck door and down into the
yard. And I spotted him. The bunny.
So did Frodo. And the crazy PON barking
began. Then Paxton joined in. He didn’t know why. But he figured he had better bark too. My human went to look at the bunny – and
there he was, calming chomping on our grass that is finally beginning to appear
as the snow melts. He didn’t care about
the crazy dogs on the other side of the door.
He’s pretty clever.
After a minute or so, my human said “OK
boys, that's enough.” Frodo figured he
couldn’t get the bunny, and Paxton didn’t know why he was barking in the first
place – so they were quiet. Not me. I stood on guard. And the NOISES I made. It sounded like I was being tortured. If someone heard me, they would have called
animal control. My human didn’t DARE
open the deck door – because she had visions of me jumping over the deck
railing into the yard one story below.
Seriously. I was THAT crazy. I moaned.
I squeaked. I barked. I paced along the door. I stared.
And I did it for like 10 minutes.
I’m not quite sure exactly what I would do if I came face to face with
the bunny. Well. Maybe I do.
But my human doesn’t want to find out.
I should probably get treatment for my
impulse control problem. It would
probably begin with short exposure to the “temptation.” I’m going to advocate for that. Yes. I
need treatment. Yes. Just give me a few seconds with that
bunny. That’s all I need…
© Linda
Wozniak
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