That tells about the times Mom loses her shit and then feels bad about it.

So today, after a great deal of exercise and stimulation, Maverick decided to run away from me and totally forget that he actually does know to come back when I call him.    And in spite of knowing better, knowing what I’m supposed to do, I lost my shit.   He ran from me and I couldn’t see anything but him running and not coming back and I was terrified that I’d lost him and I’d never find him.

I screamed.   It didn’t work, of course.   I made myself call him and run away, and he came running.   I was so upset, I brought him inside and just cried.

It’s been an awful day in a lot of ways, a lot of frustration and not a lot of joy.   I got a shower, finally, had a shot of whiskey, and told him how much I love him and that I’m sorry.

I promised Max that I would laugh more and yell less.   I’m trying, Baby Boy, I really am.