Well now, I guess maybe I’ve been telling a little bit of what the head shrinker would say is probably a fib or a lie, at least an exaggeration. No, he’d probably say it’s a lie.

There’s the kind of lies where you say something that’s just plain not true, and there’s the kind of lies where you make it seem liked something happened and it didn’t really like the way you said it did.

What happened with Monica happened the way I said it. Except I said it in a lie.

Monica and I went out there to that pond, and I threw that stick at my dog. I was the one who threw that stick, and she was the one who laughed. But I wasn’t laughing too.

When I hit my dog with that stick, I got mad. When I got mad I just saw red. I couldn’t think straight at all. My whole brain just froze up. As I was running down there, none of the thinking parts of my head was working. It was all just reflex going in and pulling old Roger out. Diving into that cold water and then pulling him out and then throwing him over my head–I guess all that water cooled off the system enough to think straight.

But there was something about Monica that wasn’t quite settled then, and I figured I could settle it. It might not have been easy, and it might be that not everybody would understand.

But we’d get it worked out.