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Rated: 13+ · Column · Family · #1628190
Comedy, Life and Insight

In Control and Possessions

Every Two or so weeks my younger brother and I get together on a Sunday afternoon.  Yesterday we did a little fishing but we always do Bar B Q and beer.  On these Sunday nights I stay over for a sleep over.  He has a fifteen year old son so we do this at his house.  I usually crash on the couch.  He saves his guest room for real guests.  My brother has these two Labrador retrievers; Chance and Cooter and they are a part of the festivities.  I like dogs; he likes dogs so they sleep in the house.

I woke this morning to Chance nudging my elbow.  I hate a wet nose first thing in the morning.  I nudged him away and he nudged back.  It's about this time on those morning I realize it potty time.  So I got up and we both went out and did our business off the porch.  Hey cut me some slack it’s a guy thing.  I know you ladies are turning up your nose but read on it will get better. 

So I lay back down on the couch to go back to sleep.  After a few minutes I feel eyes on me.  I opened one to look and Chance is back.  I tell Chance to go away and close my eye.  A few minutes pass and the heebie geebie getting stared at feeling has not gone away.  I open the one eye again and Chance is still in the same place.  Now Chance is a smart dog he knows what go away means.  In the dim light of reflection I see his ball in his mouth.  Now this is Chance's ball.  It is an old tennis ball without fuzz, it got slobbered off...now I know I grossed out the ladies but they say a dog's mouth is cleaner than most humans, so I don't mind touching the ball.  I wonder about people who do this kind of research.  "Hi honey how was your day?  It was great, love, I checked out dog’s mouths for bacteria".  I am not sure that is a conversation I want to have at the dinner table.  I digress. 

So its 5:30 in the morning and Chance is determined to play.  Now Cooter doesn't mess with Chance's ball or we will have this dog fight, and not the Red Baron German pilot kind, or pizza kind for that matter, but canine kind.  Cooter doesn't have a ball and is like me I don't want a ball, but he finds other ways to annoy the hell out you.  Tell me you’re not annoyed.  But here I am at 5:30 in the morning wide awake now getting the ball dumped on me and I begin to wonder who is the Master here.  So I sit up.  I usually like playing fetch with Chance.  I will get at the far side of the living room and throw the ball across the room and into the kitchen.  The flooring goes from carpet to hardwood.  Chance bolts he doesn't start and by the time he hits the hardwood he is slamming on the breaks. He usually catches the ball just before he slams headfirst into the kitchen cabinets.  Now you are wondering how smart I am for calling the dog smart in the first place.  I am sure I will get letters from PETA over this but they don't like me anyway.  Now Chance is one of those dogs that trots right back over with the ball but doesn't give it back to you on your time.  He decides on his time.  After about the eight collisions with the cabinets, he gets weary and the fun is gone.  We again have confirmed who is master.  But this morning because of diligence I give him his due, the bastard already woke me up.  But I keep the ball on the carpet so as not to wake the house.  He finally gets bored and I need coffee by this time.

I had been thinking about writing about possessions and control.  Now I had a framework.  Go figure.  This came about because of woman I had recently started seeing was insistent about controlling things.  I told her in the beginning she could control anything she wanted except my reactions to her controlling nature.  She has kind of controlled herself out of dinner and some dancing and possibly more.  I'll get back to you on that.  But yesterday my brother and I were talking about our possessions and how we in getting older tend to streamline the things we have to necessity these days.  What we both don't use we lose.  I went over there to help him clean some things out his garage.  He handed me a beer; we went fishing instead.

Now I know so many people that gather possession like toys.  I am reminded of my Mother's dog Mojo.  I call him pug ugly.  He doesn't fetch much because he has no legs, well he has legs just more like stubs and he doesn't breath he snores all day long.  I throw his toys all the way across the backyard.  Two trips and he out.  I am not cruel to animals they ask for it.  But he has a BASKET of toys that sit by the BASKET of toys my niece has at the house.  One day she came by and Mojo had just gotten this new squeezable plastic thing and she went straight to it.  I thought there was going to be a dog and kid fight.  I couldn't get my bookie on the line before the dispute was settled, I am still not sure who I was going to bet on, but in the end the kid had the toy and the dog pouted the rest of the day...the Basket forgotten, as was hers.

People put to much emphasis on control and possessions.  Most divorces are caused by control and the big fight in the divorce is over possessions and men pout the rest of their lives over this.  I understand this woman and her need to control things early on.  I have acquiesced to this, just don't push it.  Ladies you have to be in control of your lives when dating, there are some sick puppies (dogs again) out there; but there are some sick bitches (dogs) too. 

I am in control of me and only me.  If we meet we will see if we can get along.  I drive my own life and that is all.  I don't want to drive yours.  That is why I am not a pilot or a driver.  I don't want to be the pilot that was in control of the plane before it crashed or the driver of the bus that slammed through the guardrail and plunged over the cliff.  I don't want any passenger aboard if something like this were to happen to me.  In love and in friendship there is a sharing of control and possession.  If we ever learn this we all might find a little more happiness.

Guys most of us are fine letting woman make the decisions.  They are better at it.  I just decide I would rather go fishing than fussing.  If you want to collect toys and cars and mansions to show you are keeping up with the Joneses go for it.  I am content in my john boat in life.  When the day comes, and I go, it stays.  Why worry, fuss or go bankrupt?  I have my words and to me they are more important than anything else in this world.  They allow me to say "I love you" one more day.  I am in control of that and that is my greatest possession, and gift I can give and leave behind when all else is gone.
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