“I say, Bella . . .”
“Yes, Jim?”
“I've been meaning to talk with you about something.”
“Yes, Jim?”
“Let's talk a walk. We'll talk outdoors.”
“YES, Jim.”
“The agapantha blossoms are a bit past prime, but they're still pretty, aren't they?
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And you have to love that jacaranda color!
“Right.”
“OK, let's cut to the chase. No, wait! Wrong metaphor. Let's talk about your difficulty when you meet people—-and other animals, if you'll pardon the expression. You get so excited! You want to jump up to greet them--- lick their faces.”
“Well, don't YOU, Jim?”
“I'll ignore that remark, Bella.
“It was long before your time, but years ago, Bernita and I lived with another dog; Frankie was his name—short for frankfurter, or wiener dog. One of his best friends (and ours) was Dishes, a CAT, Bella. A CAT! Dishes and Frankie got along together exceptionally well. Imagine that.
“I just want you to consider how much more pleasant it would be if you would aspire to emulate the Dishes and Frankie relationship as you go about your daily routine. Think about it Bella.”
“I'm thinking.”
“All right. Shall we go home now, enjoy a snack on the balcony?”
“Sounds like a winner to me, Jim.”
“I'm glad we had this little talk. Good to get things straightened out, eh? There won't be any more scenes when folks come to visit, or when you see a cat, a crow or creature of any sort, will there, Bella?”
“I'm thinking. I'm thinking.”
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Next time: Boat building in the garage.
Thanks for stopping by.
Jim
