My confession.
I have found it necessary to purge myself of the internal turmoil caused by not confessing some of the dark deeds in my life.
Confession number #1:
Many years ago I had a neighbor who was an ok guy at times but had turned into quite the dick the last couple of months we lived next to each other. I had my house up for sale when he came over with a puppy he had just bought the week previously and asked if I would take care of it for the six weeks he would be gone on some promotional tour he was doing for a product he was involved in. I reluctantly agreed. He named the dog Leon after his grandfather who he had been close to. As soon as he left I worked hard to get the dog to answer to a particular name I had chosen. For six weeks I incorporated Pavlovian conditioning in my interaction with the dog (feeding, playing with him, etc) and had him responding completely to his new christened name “Yahtzee.”
I sold the house and moved out two days after he came back. During that time he expressed dismay that his dog didn’t answer to his name. On the morning of my departure I quietly left a note on his door that I had re-named the dog and that he would only respond to “Yahtzee.” I understood he was quite livid. A week after I moved I received a phone call from my previous other neighbor complaining that said individual was running down the street screaming “Yahtzee” like a crazed lunatic late one night. Apparently the dog had escaped.
Several months later he was spotted at the park yelling “Yahtzee” every hundred feet or so, causing dozens of people to assume he was mentally unstable.
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