You light up my life
Tonight Lenz ate the last of the Walmart solar lights. It was like the solitary survivor, the last man standing so to speak, then in an instant, it was over.
“Your dog is eating the last light”. Funny, he’s always my dog when his behavior is like a left leaning college student. Over the last 35 years she has developed a very unique way of reminding me of my bad decisions in life, and has perfected the art of not letting me ever forget them.
Those lights, the thirteen of them, have stood a silent vigil over the west side of our pool since 2017. I paid good money for them, a buck fifty if I recall correctly, plus the cost of the plastic bag of course. I remember bringing them home and deploying them between each of the cedars we planted with the intention of having them grow into a hedge that would shield the pool from the back sides of the Rupert street neighbors.
The cedars are dead too. Pretty sure Lenz is responsible for that as well, apparently he doesn’t believe in using one spot for relief, he’s got to spread the love around like some French sailor on shore leave.
Tabernac. Thanks Dan for building that one into my lexicon.
So I think it was Christmas day when I realized the ugly truth that’s been hiding in plain view all along. I realized then that I had psychologically repressed it, likely to make him more loveable, more warm and loving given the way he looks and acts sometimes, but the cold hard truth is as unavoidable as Hunter Biden dipping into the collection plate as it passes by at church on Sunday. My dog is a socialist.
Speaking of Karl Barks, he’s put a few pounds on as of late, seems our diet and exercise regiment some what deviates from the RCMP Dog services cadet program. Last weekend I decided to take Lenz and do some lead work at the bird sanctuary and when I put his black tracking harness on, it was, ahem, a bit snug. A bit snug means I had to take it off him and loosen all the straps to get the clips to properly snap. I guess he has not avoided the COVID-19 twenty like most people.
But I digress.
So why would I think my new dog of five months is a card carrying socialist?
First it’s his economic dependency on the state. Less than six months ago he was on track to be the next K( dog wonder of the world, chasing bad dudes and finding bad stuff and riding around in a cool SUV all day with unarguably the coolest team member of the RCMP force, the dog handler. Ok, so I took a bit of liberty right there, sorry (You know who you are). Anyway, he had a job, was earning his keep and his future looked bright right up until some bad choice or decision ended his life’s ambition and he found himself on a 5 AM flight out of Calgary heading for a new home outside the force.
He doesn’t work anymore, well, he doesn’t work HARD anymore. By that I mean he puts in some effort to sit and beg occasionally, usually at the supper table, and he still likes to chase balls in the back yard until he doesn’t, until it’s time for his mid-afternoon nap, which is slightly longer than his late afternoon nap.
His basic essentials are taken care of, his food, shelter and needs are met by the state (Gloria and I).
He gets free health care (and boy does he like taking advantage of that!)
He watches TV and whenever he sees a working dog on Border Security or Live PD he just yawns and goes back to chewing his bone.
He barks at other dogs who are out walking by with their owners, only because they are doing something he doesn’t want to, so therefore he needs to bark-shame them into submission.
He has developed a wait and see attitude towards any instruction offered towards him.
He feels entitled to sit by the table and stare at you unwaveringly until you submit and offer him something from your plate, which he had no part in preparing but fully expects to receive the benefit of.
The other night we were all enjoying pre-bedtime snuggles on the bed when a picture fell off the wall in the dining room (I’m sure the ghost had something to do with that) and he heard the bang, issued a single bark, and went right on back watching the Real Housewives of Orange County with Gloria. Didn’t even stand up. (Ed note. As I’m writing this, coffee in hand in front of the warm fire, his fur-ship is sitting here on the couch with me, chewing his favorite rubber kong bone in a rhythmic pattern. I don’t recall him paying for that either….) Let’s just say he’s not exactly earning his keep.
Yep, he’s become a socialist. He might even be a communist, but we haven’t had him long enough to understand his politics yet.
Now as you can imagine this presents some level of frustration for me as I believe we all must contribute, if not only for the good of society, for our own personal sense of well-being. One only needs look no further than these ill-advised lockdowns to see the damage caused by idle hands. Don’t get me wrong, it’s incumbent upon society to protect those who can’t help themselves, but I also just as firmly believe it’s our responsibility to contribute not only to our own keep if we can, but to the general good (i.e. by paying taxes to fund common need).
Don’t get me wrong, if they can change the world into a panacea of love and unicorn farts with this “great reset” and make the world a better place, I’m all for it. But unfortunately, I read a lot and it’s been tried over and over again with epic fail results each time, most recently in Venezuela, which is now suffering greatly and on an economic slide of historical proportions.
But that’s not real socialism is it.
Reality would be if we stopped supporting Mr. Barks with food, shelter and love, he would quickly become feral and have to forage for food, something to which he’s not accustomed. He’s have to fight others’ for food and shelter, compete for resources as it were.
I’m sure he’d be fine, his 275 pounds of jaw strength and his tenacity would ensure he didn’t want for food, but the same can’t be said for the poodles of the world. The only concern he has to face is the lack of an opposable thumb. Opening doors will be a challenge.
Anyway, we are still today in a free market economy, so after I muster up the inclination to grab a shower off we will go to Co-Op to pick up a new $70 bag of Ekanuba dog food (which surprisingly Lenz will have forgotten his wallet at checkout) and maybe we will head out to the bird sanctuary for a hike to burn off some of those snacks we’ve been getting overly accustomed to during the break.
I do know one thing, at some point we are going to run a few tracks today, and by we, I me he. He’s going to earn his keep while he can, because we all need a sense of self-worth and pride to keep us healthy and on the right track.
Go out there today and give it your best shot, because if it’s your best shot and at the end of the day you feel good with the results, you are doing ok. If you aren’t satisfied with the results, take stock of why they aren’t and adjust your approach, you’ll get there.
Just never leave any of that to anyone else. They won’t ever have your best interest at heart like you will.
That’s freedom.
Jim Out.