This forty second
video is both humorous and pitiful. A dog is happily chomping on a bone when a rogue foot creeps in to steal it. He bares his teeth and snaps at the intruder, which happens to be attached to his leg. Amazingly, he does it more than
once. The pain of teeth sinking into his own flesh does not seem to be enough of a deterrent to stop.
Make no bones about it, the image hit home. How often does one part of me attack another part of me? If I am feeling generous, and offer to bring dinner to a friend, when the evening arrives I bark at myself for setting myself up for the inconvenience. When I spend time with my daughters I turn around and scold myself for not doing laundry. If I say no to a good
cause I chide myself for stinginess.
Although my twins are not actually conjoined, they do still sleep in a twin bed, and often read in the same chair. When they were about four one time they were curled up together and one of them (no names, to protect the guilty) saw a stray arm in front of her and decided to bite it, thinking it was her sister's. But it was hers.
John and I share no DNA. He is he and I am me. But when I lunge out
to hurt him with my words or criticism it is as if I am sinking my teeth into myself. We are, in intention if not always in action, one person.
The absurdity lies in that I keep doing it.
