I Kick My Dog

I don't mean to kick her. And I feel horrible when I do. But sometimes, I can't help it. But enough about Ike Turner.

I'm 6'4" - so the possibility of walking while watching where I'm going and watching Bea are very unlikely. Without her walking a few feet in front of me, there's no way both things can be in my field of vision. Every now and then when we're walking, Bea gets under my feet - and while I've never stepped on her, I have accidentally kicked her a few times. We always hurt the ones we love, especially when the ones we love are 20 pounds and have a tendency to walk under our legs.

I need to keep looking forward most of the time, lest we both be hit by a car, a skateboarder, or an errant hot dog cart (which did happen to me when I was a teenager). So this is just something I need to accept as reality. When I do accidentally kick her, I make sure to stop and show her lots of affection so she knows it was an accident. Hopefully that won't condition her into thinking you need to be kicked before you get affection. But enough about Tina Turner.

Anyway, Bea, if you're reading this, I'm very sorry and I love you. Also if you're reading this, holy crap, you can read.