Clarity On Fire

I was sitting on the floor with my 4-month-old black lab puppy in my lap, sobbing. She was happily chewing a bone, oblivious to the fact that I was heartbroken because I was planning to give her away. Scarlett, my puppy, was a bit of a hellion. She had a habit of attacking your feet when you weren’t looking, and she would bark at you for what felt like hours without stopping. She didn’t care for kids, or scooters, or skateboards, or anything that darted around in an unpredictable fashion. If you rolled her over on her back, she would shriek and fight like a chimpanzee being murdered (I swear I’m not exaggerating. I have witnesses!). This dog was nothing like the sweet, loving, cuddly puppy I had imagined. She was completely unmanageable. So obviously I brought in professional help. The dog trainer who came to my apartment only visited a few times before she pointed at Scarlett, who had been busy attacking my feet again, and said, “That is NOT normal. You will never be able to trust this dog. She’ll have to we