Ben wants to please. He really does. Even as he barks – and just so you know, his bark is some kind of pitchy piercing octave that is ultra and immediately annoying to me, so my patience when he barks does not match my depth of understanding – even as he barks he looks at me with apologetic eyes and downturned head, knowing mama is not pleased with his behavior.
If he had the ability to make a rational choice, Ben would choose to look out the window with a neighborhood-watch disposition, like a proud and protective homeowner; leaning cautiously towards the glass as he pulls back the curtain with fingertips; trying to see the world without being seen. Thats how Ben would choose to keep watch over his home and loved ones. But he has no fingertips and, sadly, no ability to make rational choice. So, he barks. He barks suddenly and loudly making us all jump unexpectedly.
Oddly, human auto-response to surprise is anger. Immediate and intense. And even though I have the benefit of rational thought, and the ability to recognize my own behavior, I screech back at him without missing a beat. Then I feel bad for yelling. I wonder if my shouting annoys him. I wonder if it makes him feel worse about disappointing mama. I wonder if he knows why I bark.