[Critique Group 2] Fwd: submission for group 2 from Leonard

[Abbie Taylor]

Hi Leonard, join the club. I belong to several writing group lists, and if I had a dollar for every time I submitted a piece to the wrong list... I thought you actually intended it to go to the WPL list and our group, so I didn't say anything. I've already added your submission to my compilation, so we're good to go.—Abbie

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author http://abbiescorner.wordpress.com
http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com
abbie at mysero.net
Order my new memoir at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com/memoir.htm

On Dec 16, 2017 11:45 AM, tuchyner5--- via Group2 <group2 at bluegrasspals.com> wrote:
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> Hi All,
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> Apparently, I addressed this e-mail incorrectly in my first sending. Hopefully, it has found its intended target this time.
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> Leonard
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> -----Original Message-----
> From: tuchyner5 <tuchyner5 at aol.com>
> To: WritersPartyline <WritersPartyline at bluegrasspals.com>
> Sent: Fri, Dec 15, 2017 3:57 pm
> Subject: submission for group 2 from Leonard
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> Hi Group 2,
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> Below is my 962 word memoir and essay  for critique Tuesday after this Tuesday. this is also a reminder that the submissions are due this Tuesday
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> the only specific question I have is about the concept of ignorance being a matter of  choice.
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> See you on the phone lines.
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> Leonard
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>  Murderous Innocence
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> There are things we do with an open heart that are ill advised. I led with my heart on that day, but my actions were poisoned with ignorance, a naïve companion to my child’s mind.
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> The puppy was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Actually, he was almost half grown, all white and speckled with variegated black spots on medium length hair.  His body was sleek, along the lines of a bird dog.
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> He was walking leisurely along the sidewalk outside my house in Irvington, N.J. shimmering in the summer sun. It was love at first sight.  How could I resist? Right hand extended, I approached him.
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> I started with all the appropriate gooey words and tones. “Hello. Come on. Nice doggie. What a good dog.”
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> He eagerly accepted my invitation for contact, barely stopping to smell my proffered hand. It is often in the nature of boys and dogs to be instant buddies.  And so it was on this fateful summer morning.
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> “Would you like to meet champ? He’s my dog. We could play together. Come on. Champ will be really glad to meet you. He’s inside my house. We’ll have to go around to the back door. Come on.”
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> Full of trust, the young dog followed me into my back yard. Champ was already at the door, revved with excitement and chomping at the bit to get outside where he could play with our new friend.  As he scratched on the screen door and jumped at it, I turned the knob. As soon as the catch was released he pushed the door aside and leapt at the unsuspecting puppy.
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> My blood froze when I realized what was happening. Champ didn’t want to play. He wanted to kill. The puppy knew that as soon as the hurricane exploded out of the door. I didn’t know what to do. I tried futilely to grab Champ, but it might as well have been grabbing at a snarling, twisting, fire-breathing dragon.
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> The puppy managed to break free and took off running. He was faster than Champ, who was blocky in build, but the older dog was hot on his heels.  They left me in the dust as I desperately tried to keep up.  We came quickly to the end of the block which ran parallel to a major thoroughfare. I got there just after I heard a horrible thump.
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> The puppy lay sprawled out in the middle of the road, blood dripping out of his nose and feet quivering. I looked on with my heart racing and my lungs paralyzed. My mind tried in vain to deny what my eyes saw. Then shame fell over me like a suffocating cloud. I wanted to hide.  This was all my fault. I didn’t want people to know. The cars were stopped and the driver had exited his automobile. I imagine him saying that the dog came out of nowhere, but I really wasn’t hearing anything except the inner shouts of, “It’s all your fault. You killed that poor little puppy. Your dog is bad. You’re bad. Get away from here before somebody finds out what you did.”
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> I saw Champ in the distance. He understood that he should leave the site. I slinked away back to my house. 
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> A few hours later, Champ returned. He showed no signs of remorse. I doubt that he felt any. Begrudgingly, I accepted him back as my dog. I realized, at some level, that he did not live by the sensibilities of good humans.  I don’t think this is true of all dogs. I’ve learned through my years of experience with canines that they have all kinds of sensibility levels.  Some undoubtedly exceed the moral fiber of many homo sapiens. In retrospect, he was protecting his territory. The puppy was endangering his status in his own home by soliciting the affections of his human. I can’t really know whether he would have killed the other dog if he could have. Bloodying him might have been enough.
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> I never confessed or talked to anyone about the incident, and to my knowledge, no one ever connected the accident to me. No one ever blamed me and thus no one ever offered any consolation. It is something I’ve carried around all my life. It is not a heavy burden, because in adulthood I realized that a child should not be blamed for an innocent mistake, even if it is fatal. On the other hand, the fact that I did not trust anyone with the secret does say something about my trust levels in childhood.
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> I am writing this account a few weeks before Christmas in my 77th year of my sojourn in this incarnation on earth. The incident does still have a powerful effect on me. I notice that, on those rare occasions when I think of this event, my head looks down and there is still significant sadness, laced with the old remnants of guilt.
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> Although ignorance is a valid pardon for children to do things with horrible consequences, it is not a valid excuse for adults. Most ignorance is a matter of choice. I am reminded of Dickens’ Christmas Carol, when Scrooge notices two children cowering under Christmas Presence’s robes.  The spirit opens his robes for Scrooge’s perusal, and identifies them as the children of man. He says, “One is Want and the other is Ignorance.” He warns Scrooge to beware of both of them, but most of all to be wary of Ignorance. As we near Christmas, it would be wise to heed that warning, because it is highly appropriate for our times when ignorance and want run rampant in our societies, and when they can bring grave consequences.
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