Perception.

Or maybe perspective?

I was tellin’ Miss Carol the other day that maybe I need to change the way I think.

We were walkin’ Cutter and Tug and talkin’ and I’d got to wonderin’

That maybe instead of dreading it as a twice daily mile long herky jerk wrestling match that maybe I should think of it as the boys being just so proud to be showing me off, wanting to parade me along the streets of the island, tugging and pulling me, strutting their stuff.

Miss Carol beamed at me.

So I pushed it up another notch and figured that maybe their wrapping themselves around me, tying me up in their leashes wasn’t so much that they’re completely stupid retards but that they’re just wanting to get closer to me.

And yearning to believe, I thought that maybe, just maybe, their yanking 8 foot yearning at the end of  7 foot leashes is simply wanting to smell the roses.

‘Cause really, shouldn’t we all do more of that?

So.

As I’m dragged behind them, pulled to my knees, cursing and screaming, I’m gonna hold onto the sunny, overly optimistic perspective (or is it perception?) that maybe they’re better than I’m thinkin’ they are.

Mostly ’cause Miss Carol beamed at me.