Dear Mom,

I’m not walking and you can’t make me.

You can stand outside the car at the park and try all you want to draw my attention to the geese on the lake shore, but I’m not chasing those geese.  That requires leaving the safety of the car and I’m not doing that.

You can take me to as many different parks as you like and I’m not getting out of the car.

You can stand at the bottom of the front porch steps and try to coax me off the porch but I’m not budging.  I know I used to love taking out the trash with you, but now I hate it.  Taking out the trash requires going outside and I’m not doing it.

I know this behavior confuses and worries you, and if I could speak English I would explain it all to you.  For now you’ll just have to trust me that I know what I’m doing.  There are loud noises outside and those noises scare me.  Grandma’s neighborhood is quieter.  Let’s go there more often so I can lie in her backyard and watch for rabbits and squirrels.  I will walk the sidewalks of Grandma’s neighborhood.  I will walk the track at the Rec. Center.  I will be the dog you always knew and loved if you’ll just get me out of this noisy town.

With Love,

Oliver

 

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