It’s 6:15 on a Sunday morning and I should be sleeping in. But the human got up early and keeps making a racket. So I have no choice. It’s up and at ‘em.
Collar on—I’m dressed for work. Door open—seconds and counting to the start of my shift.
The human is futzing about, so I put my eyes just above the glass in the door and scan my territory. This way, I can see any bad elements lurking about without them seeing me. It’s about deploying a psychological tactic I like to call “surprise.”
Sure enough, I clock a large furry criminal element at ten o’clock.
This never would have happened if I hadn’t been stuck inside the house since yesterday morning. If you don’t patrol regularly, the criminals become brazen.
Management of this joint sucks—sometimes. I don’t want to be caught complaining, but there’s been some slacking off lately. I work really hard patrolling the property. That’s my side of the bargain. Is it too much to ask for some consideration of my needs?
Case in point. The doors don’t open fast enough now that I need to get out. If that bad element gets away, I don’t want to hear any complaining. Humans. You can’t live with ‘em, you can’t live without ‘em.
As soon as the door opens, I streak out in pursuit. It’s a cotton-tailed rabbit, and I ignore the shout from my startled house-mate: “Ozzy, no! Ozzy, stop!”
My house-mate does not have my eyesight, nor my ability to laser-scan the landscape and detect the tiniest movement. Obviously, they didn’t notice the rabbit and opened the door, oblivious.
The rabbit startles and runs too late. I can easily capture this outrageous interloper and show all the bad elements who’s in control of this territory. I’m only two feet from the criminal as I take the corner of the house like Black Beauty on steroids.
You’re dying to know what I did, aren’t you? Dying to be the operative word.
But no—not what you think. My job is to scare the bejesus out of that rabbit so it goes back and tells the other rabbits, “Don’t bother packing. We’re out of here. Now!”
It’s about deterrence to reduce recidivism. Rabbits are especially prone to re-offending, so I need to send a strong message to all members of the rabbit community. Not put away just one of them.
Job done within a few seconds, I stroll back around the corner of the house nonchalantly, pretending I don’t see the human standing there calling my name. I linger and sniff the thing that smells like dead meat.
I continue to sniff as I sneak looks at my house-mate. C’mon, c’mon, a little acknowledgement wouldn’t hurt. The human—finally—says “Good boy!” in that annoyingly high-pitched voice and shuts the door.
Dropping my sniffing-the-dead-meat-thing pretense, I can start my proper patrol of the property now.
You see, it’s all about image management with both the humans and the bad elements. I’ve got to be seen taking care of business, or they won’t behave and the world will fall apart.
It’s about leadership, my friend. I’ve got it, and they need it.
Ozzy: I wanted to include Osborne as an example of GOOD band management, but I just didn't know enough about him.