While I was planting verbena this afternoon, our new puppy Aura had her first encounter with the electric fence of her little corral. I’d never been around when such a thing happened and I was almost as upset as she was.
She yowled, then ran, but wasn’t sure where to run. Didn’t know what was safe.
I couldn’t stand it. I got her out of there and spent the rest of my gardening time trying to stop her from walking on the columbine and eating the daffodil fronds.
I don’t know whether I’m too soft-hearted to train a dog or a child, or simply too squeamish: unwilling to suffer myself in seeing them hurt.
I do know that Aura, shocked, dramatically illustrated how all kinds of creatures tend to behave after a broadside. Not sure what to trust, desperate to avoid further hurt. It’s hard at such moments — takes boldness — to figure out what caused the pain and not blame it on any and every thing in sight.