Every day the Universe conspires to teach me lessons I don’t wanna learn. As they say in the movies, “Resistance is FUTILE.” And yet, I still struggle.
Today, my dog was the teaching assistant. Rafferty decided he didn’t want to eat his food. Being a good dog mom, I coaxed. “Ah, come on, Raffie.” Then I threatened. “Eat your food.” And finally, I resorted to unfair tactics. I poured beef boullion over the kibble.
To no available. He licked off the beef and sat down to stare at me.
His desire to eat has not overcome whatever resistance he’s feeling. And yet…and yet…it’s spring and I have hope.
It’s like that with books, too. I keep trying to read Bleak House by Dickens. At first, I tried because I own an old copy, and there’s a deep seated part of me that believes old books are to be venerated. Then I tried because I read a reference to the characters. And finally, I’ve taken a third stab at Bleak (was there ever a book so aptly named?) because I’m doing research on the justice system in Victorian times.
Personally, I’d rather be eating kibble.
