265 - Two Hundred Sixty Five

Breaker Whiskey

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[TRANSCRIPT]

Breaker, breaker. This is Whiskey calling out to our dog attack victim.

Um, I hope you're okay. I'm sorry that happened. I'm glad that you're already on the journey to heal. And I do wish you a lot of luck. I want to say, I think it's amazing that that was your reaction. To want to turn around and pet the head the bit you. I

've always loved dogs, but at the end of the day, they are just animals that live in our homes. And you're right, what good is a world without them? But...sure, we domesticated dogs over millennia, but they still have sharp teeth. They still have an instinct that I'm not sure it can be entirely bred out. And I'm sorry that you were a victim of that.

I would love a dog to curl up with. To take care of. And to understand myself a little bit more, because sometimes I feel a little bit like that. Like there's something in me that can't be bred out, can't be trained out. That when cornered, I'm just a thing with sharp teeth.

[click, static]

Harry would be the first to tell you that I bite. She's not talking to me at the moment, and for good reason. Um...that snarling, rabid snap of teeth that has always perched just beneath my soft palate came out the other day, and...well, she was in range.

[click, static]

It was after...well, I was having another one of those dark days. Thinking about Don, just swallowed in grief and guilt. And she wasn't- she wasn't being a pill about it or anything, but she wasn't exactly being comforting and...not that I expect that from her. She's never been great at that. But I think I just needed her to mostly leave me alone if she wasn't going to be comforting. And she wouldn't. And I snapped.

I just...I told her it was her fault. It was her fault that I left and found him in the first place. It was her fault that I wasn't there when it happened. And it was her fault that we're in this situation to begin with. Even though I know- I know that it's technically literally the fault of my actions. But still she set us on the path. And that's-

[click, static]

I'm worried that we're never going to stop having this argument. And that's...you know, in the very foundation of our relationship is having the same argument over and over again, but we've gotten better at it. You know, we've gotten better at fighting with each other. We can hurt more precisely now. Cut deeper with fewer slashes and it's...I wasn't nice about it and she's right to not be talking to me because she lost him, too and we both took actions to protect one another that led us to where we are now, so there's no point in placing blame for Don's death at anyone else's feet other than Junior's.

It's his fault. He's the one who did it. But we can't confront him. We can't jail him. We certainly can't kill him. And so we're left with only each other to sling arrows at.

[click, static]

And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of. Lashing out when I feel cornered. I'm tired of caring about the blame. I'm tired of wanting to try and fix what can't be fixed. But I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't know how to train myself out of those animalistic impulses to tear out someone's throat. And part of me wonders if I did it, if I succeeded and was able to change that part of me so fundamentally, would there be enough of me in what was left? Is a dog still a dog if you remove all of its teeth?