You gravitate towards the weeds that will stick in your ears. In the middle of nowhere you find something smelly to roll in. You roll your ball in the mud then throw it my lap while I’m wearing white shorts. Then, when I take you for a walk to burn off some steam, you drop to the ground at the side of the path so people think I’m trying to drag you. Owning you is like riding a psychotic horse towards a burning stable.