Monday, July 04, 2022

It’s a dog’s life

 



On this uncertain Fourth, Sophie is much on my mind. I have always known that if you love a dog, your life is theirs, adjusted to their needs and schedules. Tonight, I have turned down an invitation to watch fireworks from Jean’s seventeenth-floor apartment with a grand view because I don’t want to leave Sophie home alone. I read that one in five dogs disappear on July Fourth, frightened by the fireworks. Sophie, who is afraid of thunder, shows no such fear. The door to the patio is open, and distant fireworks sound all the time, perhaps from the country club. Sophie however is lying by my bed—perhaps the only difference is that she is in the back of the cottage rather than up here where her usual sleeping spot is.

She did the unthinkable tonight—ate a chicken bone, the thing we are always cautioned against. So far she seems fine, though I may be in for a rough night, just because I will worry. Instinct tells me she will be fine—street dogs eat chicken bones a lot and survive, and Sophie has in the past proven she has a cast-iron stomach. She once eight an entire large log of goat cheese. I feared a terrible night, but she showed no symptoms. Not too long ago she ate a basket of baguette slices—not just one slice, but the whole blasted basket.

Just to be sure tonight I called the emergency vet clinic and asked if I should feed her bread. They said yes, but they said most dogs can digest a chicken bone. So I’m watchful but we’re both okay. She is not in any apparent distress right now. And she wolfed down the bread. She is one of those dogs who is always hungry.

On other fronts, we’re not okay. Our internal clocks are not synchronized. I seem to have moved the whole day forward an hour our two—I sleep later in the morning and go to bed later at night. Soph, on the other hand, has moved her day backward—she who used to sleep until eight wakes me like clockwork at 5:45. And at 4:30 in the afternoon, precisely, she wants her dinner. Now, at ten o’clock, she’s apparently down for the night. This night she is not in her usual safe spot between the coffee table and the couch but is by my bed.

Maybe focusing on Sophie keeps my thoughts off Independence Day. In a small online writers group I treasure, several women said they could not celebrate when women have lost their independence and others are in danger of losing all freedom as the rogue Supreme Court chips away at life as we have known it in a functioning democracy. As I’ve said before, I’m not ready to give up, but I am appalled by the ignorance of comments I see on Facebook. One to the effect that we should all be nice to each other and everything will be fine—such a platitude, when we are faced with proof that a segment of our elected officials, including the highest in the land, tried to overthrow a legitimate election. Being nice is not going to cut it with people who do that. Another person suggested that we don’t need trump or Biden as president and how about Nikki Haley, Mario Rubio or Mike Pence. Political partisanship aside, far as I can tell, none of them are anywhere near qualified. Rubio is struggling in his re-election battle in Florida. Pence has become almost an invisible man, still reluctant to turn on the man who would have let a mob hang him. And Nikki Haley is surely not the caliber we need for our first female president.

What I’m trying to say is I wish Americans would open their minds, explore the issues, learn about the candidates, make informed decisions. I know I have strong opinions, so strong that some people are offended, and I know not everyone will agree with my judgements. But I don’t want to hear platitudes. Read Heather Cox Richardson and “Wake UP to Politics.” Listen to almost anything but Fox News. In this age of information, there is so much out there out there for us to learn. And it’s so important to be alert to lies and distortions—I suspect there are once again Russian bots trying to influence our upcoming elections, and I know not all politicians are honest. Too many simply try to stir up trouble and accuse the other party, without offering a solution of their own.  It’s important, perhaps more so now than ever, for each of us to be an informed voter.

Lecture over. Texas is so dry that the Fort Worth city fireworks started a grass fire, even though crews have been watering the area for days. So the show was cancelled. I sure hope it’s not an omen.

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