A Dog’s Life Is Looking Pretty Good To Me Right Now
By Ed Kociela
It’s a dog’s life. Daisy turned two Saturday.
She didn’t have a big party, of course, with all of the Covid-19 restrictions. Besides, her two best buddies – Monster and Tinkie – are out of town.
Still, she had a good day, I think.
Our little terrier mixed breed, a Baja rescue, did the things she likes best on her birthday. She played catch, curled up on the couch to have her ears scratched and her belly rubbed, and, as usual, found the coolest place in the house and took full advantage of the air conditioning. She would occasionally look out the slider door and bark at the rabbits, also a favorite pastime, and seemed satisfied when they scurried away. She has done her job, scattering the rabbits to protect her family.
If you ever had a relationship with a terrier you know they are an energetic, rambunctious breed. They are very loving, very stubborn, very smart, very playful little souls.
Her favorite time of day is late after the sun has set and we ask if she is ready to go to bed, eat a couple of homemade treats – yes, she is very spoiled – and watch Netflix. Her ears perk up, she makes a mad dash for the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for me to bring her goodies. Then she will snuggle between us and watch the television. Cara and I have a penchant for environmental documentaries that include animals. One night while one of the episodes had a segment on hyenas, Daisy’s ears perked, she stood up – tail straight out – and protected us from the sounds of the hyenas coming from the television with a series of yips and growls.
Daisy doesn’t know about the horrors of racism that boiled over into the recent massive demonstrations and protests. In fact, she’s color blind. When friends of color come by all she cares about is that they acknowledge her with a pat on the head and a quick ear scratch while she dances around a little too excitedly.
Daisy doesn’t have a clue about Covid-19. Mom and Dad have been home with her since she moved in with us so she doesn’t know about quarantines or social distancing. We’ve always been there with her. She prefers our company and gets a bit nervous if one of us leaves the house for a simple errand, relieved upon our return.
Daisy doesn’t have a clue about Donald Trump or Joe Biden. So long as she has food in her belly, playtime, and her humans, she is perfectly happy.
It’s good to be Daisy, except for bath time. She hates bath time, even when her friend Gordon comes to groom her.
Even though she had no idea why, she knew she was being pampered Saturday, especially when she was given her special birthday dinner of a hamburger pattie with cooked carrots.
As I write this she is curled up under my chair, comfortable, content.
Meanwhile, I sit here, trying to measure my words.
I must admit, I have news burnout.
While it is important to remain on top of what is taking place in our world, no matter where we lay our head at night, there is only so much of this we can take.
I suffer from an overload of anger at the continued racism that poisons so many. I am distraught over the surging Covid-19 numbers and the refusal of so many who have decided that their “right” to not wear a mask is more important than protecting themselves and others. I have Donald-Trump-Fatigue. Just the sound of his voice sends me into spasms of anxiety. I am beginning to understand why Elvis blew up televisions.
I keep a close eye on social media, which is, at this point, our best gauge of public temperament. It’s not good. The anger, the ignorance, the lack of civility is as frightening as it is heartbreaking. I mean, somewhere along the way, Covid-19 will go away, we will, God willing, rid ourselves of this hateful racism, and this cancerous political season will pass. What will we be like then and how long will it be before we overcome the mass outbreak of PTSD that is sure to sweep among us when this is all over.
Daisy, of course, knows nothing about this stuff, although she does sense when it has been a particularly upsetting day and does her best to comfort her people by laying on our laps and looking up with those sweet expressions she learned, I think, in puppy school. You know, those canine smiles, those bright, clear eyes, the head tilting when you talk to her as if she is concentrating on our words, that nudge to get just a little bit closer.
Cara and I talk a lot, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. We mull the day’s events – the good the bad, and the bizarre. We often find ourselves shaking our heads and asking “Why?”
I don’t think we are alone.
We talk about how we can end the bigotry. We talk about the latest incoherence from the West Wing. We talk about what it might be like when this Covid-19 thing is over. We wondered what we would do if we had school-age children, concluding that homeschooling would be the only viable alternative.
Oh, I’m, sure there will be some who will bolt from their homes like drunken teenagers on Spring Break when the restrictions are finally lifted. But, I think most reasonable people will be much more prudent, much more cautious. At least I hope so especially as we endure this current surge. If you have half a brain, you realize that masks and social distancing have nothing to do with politics and everything to do with science. If you are a functioning human being capable of rational thought and able to check your political bias at the door, you know that to be true. If not, I will gladly nominate you for this year’s Darwin Awards because you are doing nothing to advance the human species.
Look, nobody seems particularly happy these days. We’re all dismayed by the social and cultural discord, we are all shaken by this Covid-19 thing, we are all fed up with the political mayhem. It’s probably why I find more comfort around Daisy and other little fur babies than I do with a growing number of humans because she’s honest, loyal, and loving.
In fact, it is time to wind this up.
Looks like Daisy is in need of a belly rub.
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