Sometimes my interactions with mom and dad feel almost as if we are arguing about what should be done with the most viable body left (mine). I think that's where a lot of what I term bossiness comes from. Todays sour look was brought to you by my saying I was going to pull Prissy (mom's ex dog that came to live with me) from obedience class and take Oliver because he's better suited and more likely to progress on to something else.
For me, it's just a matter of spending my time where it can do the most good. I would never run Priss in agility, she's too small and likely to be injured. She is already well mannered on a leash-so far what her life is and will be, she's done with her education (except for refresher drills, etc.).
Where I sometimes lose patience (I didn't today) is why does it even matter? I doubt Mom would go to the grand nationals if Prissy herself was competing for the high point dog of all time. For her, it's just a story I'd tell when I got home and then she would tell her cronies. I guess if the dog were Prissy, it would make her more a part of it.
Now, the stress of Daddy's upcoming tests and John's continued decline is ramping up Mom's need to control things and I will work on being more patient or at least not taking things so personally.
But possession of the body IS kind of personal, don't you think? I am such a pleaser I don't want anyone to be unhappy or worried about anything I do. I'm just not such a pleaser that I'll live my life within a 74 year old's comfort level.
I was a bit of a wild child, but I can't spend the rest of my life making up for some sleepless nights when I was a teenager. HELL, I didn't ASK to be BORN....giggle giggle. I guess the possession of the body thing is really nothing new.