The Freedom To Choose...means The Freedom To

The Dog’s Agenda Is Simple, Fathomable, Overt: I Want. “i Want To Go Out, Come In, Eat Something, Lie Here, Play With That, Kiss You. There Are No Ulterior Motives With A Dog, No Mind Games, No Second-guessing, No Complicated Negotiations Or Bargains, And No Guilt Trips Or Grudges If A Request Is Denied.

I Don't Think That The World Would Be A Better Place If Everyone Owned A Dog, And I Don't Think That All Relationships Between Dogs And Their Owners Are Good, Healthy, Or Enriching.

Trying To Describe The Process Of Becoming An Alcoholic Is Like Trying To Describe Air. It's Too Big And Mysterious And Pervasive To Be Defined. Alcohol Is Everywhere In Your Life, Omnipresent, And You're Both Aware And Unaware Of It Almost All The Time, All You Know Is You'd Die Without It, And There Is No Simple Reason Why This Happens, No Single Moment, No Physiological Event That Pushes A Heavy Drinker Across A Concrete Line Into Alcoholism. It's A Slow, Gradual, Insidious, Elusive Becoming.

I Am Shy By Nature, A Person Who's Always Found Something Burdensome About Human Interaction And Who Probably Always Will, At Least To Some Degree.

Why Do I Find The Fantasy - Husband, Family, Kids - Exhausting Instead Of Alluring? Is There Something Wrong With Me? Do I Have A Life?