In movies, we see captives bound to chairs or beds. I don’t like the idea of having my movements restricted.
However, there’s nothing more rewarding than seeing the dog bound towards me when she’s called.
The ‘deaf’ thing is still a concern, but in quieter surroundings, her response is good.
Of course, things are bound to change. Old age settles in, for some of us quicker than others, but time goes on, not back.
Are we bound by it? Time that is. Always somewhere to go, somewhere to be, someone to see. The secret is not to let it rule us (if we can).
Books are bound, although paperbacks rely on glue and compression to hold the pages together. I so hate it when someone doubles a book back on itself.
We get ourselves in a bind with commitments, bound by a promise.
Rules, regulations, routine and respect. If there is any possibility that I cannot fulfil a promise, I won’t make it.
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