Mistakes are a normal and natural part of everyday life, don't you think? So why do we think we're supposed to appear perfect?
No need to answer. It just seems like a rather odd human habit. So much easier to blame anything that goes wrong on the dog.
So here's the thing. What if the dog really did eat your checkbook? I mean, it's possible. Especially if you had one of those snappy little leather covers. And what if he was really looking out for your best interests?
* You know, like when the dog lets you know it's time to empty the wastebasket by shredding the kleenexes and paper towels all over the floor.
* Or when the dog lets you know it's time to take a break from his arch-nemesis the typing machine by throwing a hysterical barking fit.
* Or when the dog alerts you to a lack of fresh air in the house in the dead of winter by standing half-in / half-out of the door for a full 5 minutes. "Deciding" if his biorhythms are properly aligned for a quick trip outside.
What if the nice lady's dog was alerting her to the need to re-assess her spending habits? That's what I wondered, upon encountering this "Dog Ate My Checkbook" article.
"The dog ate my checkbook," the nice lady told the detectives. So she had no alternative but to use her ex-husband's bank account to pay her bills.
Here's where things get a little dicey. It seems that the nice lady drew a faulty conclusion. Sure the dog ate her checkbook. But it's doubtful that her response to the situation was truly set in stone. The conclusion that she had no alternatives was faulty. Chances are this faulty conclusion was not her first, and this just may have had something to do with the marital difficulties she sustained recently. But I digress.
Instead of praising dear Fido for his considerate actions like this...
"Oh Fido, you're such a good dog! Thanks so much for letting mommy know that the bank account was getting low!"
...she concluded that her ex-husband should foot the bill for her living expenses.
Now let's say it was your dog and your irresistably leather-covered checkbook. Fido enjoyed his tasty snack, ironically, on the very day you had planned to pay all the bills. Would you have seen other options? Safe to say you would.
Your list might go something like this:
* Call the bank and request more checks.
* Call the utility company and explain the delay.
* Pay your bills with a credit card.
* Take cash to the utility company's business office.
* Call up your ex-husband and ask him to help you out of this sticky little wicket.
* Call up anyone else you can think of and ask them to help you out of this sticky little wicket.
* Or ???
Here's where the nice lady missed the mark. Her perspective was off. From her view, she "had no choice" but to pay her bills out of her ex-husband's account. Yet we can see any number of other alternatives. We have objectivity that she does not share.
And there's the rub. The "No Choice" excuse (page 79 of the Word Cures book) really means one thing. You think the other choices available to you will place you in an even worse light than the one you latch onto.
Unfortunately, however, lack of objectivity makes the "No Choice" choice a really bad one much of the time. In this case, the nice lady is being investigated for identity theft and forgery. A mistake which, if verified, could be quite a bit trickier to get out of than if she had simply gotten a little behind on her bills.
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By the way, if you haven't seen it, we have a really cute "Dog Ate My Homework" mug (thanks to artist Judith Greenwood) available as part of the Word Cures Starter Kit. It's the perfect vessel for your favorite morning beverage!
