SELECTIVE HEARING ISSUE
One may say a lot of things about Rex. However, no one can claim that he has not adapted to the world as it is now.
Taking an example from many politicians, Rex developed a selective hearing problem. He can hear someone speaking to him, provided that what is being said bears a hint of some profit for him.
Otherwise, my smug little pug would gloss over my words with the indifference of a dignitary asked to throw some crumbles to the poor subjects needing help. They may have lined up for his passage through the crowd. Still, he could not be bothered to lower his eyes over them.
Rex similarly goes through life oblivious to anything he does not care about. Words fly by his little floppy ears, getting lost in the ether.
I can't hear you, he seems to say. Then, he trots indifferently towards his next destination, leaving you behind as if you needed to rate more on any significant scale.
I wonder if this would be a conversation, but if this is the case, you must make yourself important enough to be heard.
Then, would that only qualify as a monologue or a plea to get a grain of attention? Or, more importantly, might it be only a way to hide the pitiful state of affairs in your relationship with your pug?
Oh, so many questions! If I analyzed everything, all these meanings apply, but going there would be a waste of time. It would not make me feel better about myself—quite the opposite.
And besides, any parent would think the same if they lost an argument with their child.
Anyway, I possess a magic word, and I know it is enough to say it. Then, Rex will suddenly open his ears and do what I need.
I avoid that word as much as possible because gluttony is crested into the pugs' nature, and they exaggerate when it comes to what they can ingest.
But then, it is hard to refrain from saying it, especially if the wanted result is finally in your grasp.
Come, Rexy, my little pumpkin! Mommy will give you a treat as soon as...
You may complete the dots with everything you like, from getting inside to shutting your mouth so that the neighbours can have a moment of blessed peace.
Then, finally, everything gets back to normal. Mommy has a well-bred little creature; the sun rises in the sky once more, and peace comes down to earth and makes it livable.
Too bad the tranquillity does not last for long. Life is made of cycles, and the ones in Rex's life come about frequently.
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