The other day, my little dog chewed my eraser and ruler. She’s so adorable. It was her way of saying “Get my breakfast or pay the price.” My True Love (TL) joked that she had my measure. Unfortunately, he’s the one that has my measure.

My TL says that I am like a fierce little dog. When the little dog sees a person (in my case, a government spokesperson) walking past the house, a frisson of excitement issues from the little dog as it prepares to take on its larger foe and a volley of furious barking ensues. The little dog is so proud when its barking sends off the (completely oblivious) offender. It’s sport, it’s fun. Okay, I do admit to getting rather furious in defense of my position (ie. good public policy). However, sometimes a little impulse control wouldn’t go astray. So I’ve amended my last blog post so that it is more in keeping with a calmer, bigger dog.

Notice too, how I’ve issued this advice/apology on a Saturday when there are fewer passers-by (readers).

Woof, woof.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

17 thoughts on “My Measure

Comments are now closed.