I thought I had them under control.
I had spent years carefully handling my BigHairyIssues. They were
still young enough to train, to mold. I would slowly open the closet
door, remove one of the growling, spitting vile little creatures
and shut it again before any others could accidentally escape. I
would play with him, pet him, take him into the daylight and watch
as his little face crinkled up in displeasure, soothed him as he
hissed and struggled to go back to his dark safe closet.
After months of alone time with each one, I began taking them out
in groups, allowing them to interact with each other, to learn to
play nicely with others.
I celebrated my ultimate success when the closet no longer had
a lock, and the little monsters were showing progress in playing
with OutsideIssues, working to teach NewIssues how to play with
the others, and even once, making friendly noises at SomeoneElsesIssues.