Most days are good days
Warning: this post is going to devolve into uncharacteristic sentimentality, so if you're as offended by that sort of thing as I usually am, you may want to skip this one.
The reason I've been out of sorts for a couple of days has to do with something that happened this past weekend. One of the neighborhood's most beloved doggies, a Pomeranian named Bella, died this Sunday. She didn't expire quietly during a nap on a comfy sofa at the age of seventeen as she should have. She ran into the path of an oncoming car while we all watched, helpless, from the sidewalk. She was three.
I picked her up immediately, but there was nothing to do except hold her while she went to that big comfy sofa in the sky. My dog Zora lost her best friend. Bella lived next door, and there was a hole in the fence big enough to allow her through, but not Zora. She would come into our backyard and visit and play every day. Her mother is inconsolable. Bella was like her child.
Now I know that with all the trouble in the world, a neighbor's dead dog doesn't rank very high in the overall scheme of things, so it's difficult to account for how shaken up my wife and I were over this. I think part of it was watching it happen and not being able to do anything to stop it. It's disconcerting to think how quickly a pleasant Summer weekend can turn tragic in a single instant that no one can take back. It had been such a good day before that happened, I kept saying to myself. I thought back to similar traumatic events in my life, and I remember having said the same thing: "It was such a good day until..."
So I think the lesson here may be this. Most days are good days. It's just that normally we're too stupid to appreciate it, and we take them for granted. That might be something good to keep in mind. I'm going to try.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent, those of you who are still with me. :-)
Comments
A post worth remembering.
It's good to remind ourselves that all the time we spend blogging about politics is really just a bunch of bullshit. The attitude we choose when we get out of bed each morning impacts our own lives infinitely more than any judicial ruling or piece of legislation. How we treat our loved ones matters more than where we stand on abortion or state's rights.
At the end of the day, all you have is your family and a few close friends. What we do here every day on our blogs may make some small difference in the course of things, but if we remember that it's really more about entertainment than anything else we'll be sure to not get carried away with worrying about things we can't control.
Most days are good days. Well said.
Posted by: The Warden | July 20, 2005 10:27 AM
Most days really are good, and "people" like Bella make them even better.
They certainly brighten the not so good days, too.
Posted by: Anonymous | July 20, 2005 06:07 PM
Barry wrote:
Now I know that with all the trouble in the world, a neighbor's dead dog doesn't rank very high in the overall scheme of things..."
Bugge Wesseltoft lined:
Admit it; I think you feel more sorry for your neighbour's dog's death than you do about someone dying in most other places.
Admit it; I do.
Sorry to hear of your woes, Barry. Your feelings are natural and nothing to be ashamed of. Hopefully you provided some real comfort to the pup in her last moments; and you undoubtedly did for your neighbour.
BTW, those lyrics are from a track called "Hymn" on Bugge Wesseltoft's album "Sharing". It's Nu Jazz and a bit weird, but splendid nevertheless.
Posted by: PJF | July 20, 2005 06:51 PM
Barry: Tim and I were saddened to hear about the recent loss. Bella was such a cutie. I feel bad for the neighbor, Zora and you guys. I like your comments. I'll try to remember them when I'm whining incessantly about some meaningless trifle.
Posted by: Brian Newell | July 20, 2005 11:51 PM
That's awful , Barry. So sorry that happened to a little, sweet friend of Zora's, too. It is so devastating when we see that happen.
On my travels driving each day , I have picked up 3 'stray' dogs, all of whom had owners, but escaped and in the middle of busy roads. I returned them to their owners, after calling the vet's office as they just had their rabies tag on and nothing else and they were reunited to their parents. One person put up a sign outside their home of 'Amy' (one little dog I returned) and it said quite simply, 'Thanks Jane, Amy'. The love for our animals is overwhelming and we want to protect them and hug them all the time (well, I do with Rosie :) )
Btw.. I saw a St. Bernard run down by a car once...I can understand how you feel Barry. It is one of the worst things to see.
Bella knew she was loved to the end. Thanks for helping her have a happy life, short but a happy one. You and Sarah have such good hearts.
Posted by: brit | July 21, 2005 10:55 PM