Not just a dog (11/8/2023)
Last week I watched a video clip on a news site that put tears in my eyes.
It showed the retirement of a police dog that was diagnosed with cancer. The handler was walking her through a corridor and saluting officers were lined up at both sides paying their respects. To me it was an impressive scene.
Then I read some comments, mostly polite ones. But there was one that struck me, and not in a positive way.
This man, probably not a dog owner, thought this ceremony was over the top and utterly ridiculous. After all, this was just a dog, an animal that had no clue what was happening.
I was tempted to write a response, telling him that he had absolutely no clue what he was talking about.
Police dogs, and dogs in other services as well of course, are hand picked and highly trained. With skills that humans don’t posses they provide services that are utterly important in their field.
Many lives have been saved and crimes solved thanks to these brave canines. They are part of a team and treated as such with respect. Some of them even get awards for their heroism.
These officers were not just saluting a dog, they were saying goodbye to one of their beloved colleagues.
Is it worth your trouble? (9/16/2023)
At the side of a busy road there is an area that is being using as a temporary swap meet.
Every weekend, except for the hot summer months, people show up early in the morning and put their merchandise up for sale. A wide variety of items is available, from baked goods to bicycles, tools, toys, furniture etc.
We usually stop and check it out when we are in the area. Over the years we have bought some items but most times we leave empty handed. We really don’t need anything and there is another reason we don’t buy.
The quality of the goods, or better said, the lack of quality is often the culprit. Some of the vendors have nothing better to offer than junk. We are certainly not interested in stuff that is broken, incomplete and dirty.
There is an elderly guy who is there almost every weekend. He arrives in his old beat up truck and fills a few tables with stuff that is not even worth looking it. It seems that he gathers every piece of scrap he can find.
Who would buy a length of dirty nylon rope, an old axe with a broken handle or some pliers that have been sitting in the elements and are rusted together? I cannot even imagine him making enough money to pay for the gas he uses to go back and forth.
It’s all relative (9/11/2023)
A week and a half ago a thunder- and rainstorm ripped through our town.
The roofing on the corner of the carport was lifted up and folded back.
I tried to make a repair while the wind was still blazing in an attempt to contain the damage. I didn’t help much and my wife was upset that I was outside and on the ladder in those circumstances. She was fearing for my safety, rightfully so because I was taking a risk.
That night I didn’t sleep well, maybe we would have to face costly repairs.
It was barely light the next morning when expected the damage. It wasn’t too bad and I managed to get the roofing on the carport back into shape.
From the house itself a few shingles were missing and I found most of them in the backyard. In my younger years I would have climbed on the roof without hesitation and put them back in place.
Now I wasn’t too sure if that was a good idea and I certainly didn’t what to upset my better half. I have to admit that I’m not as sturdy of my feet as I used to be.
It happened again. (9/7/2023)
It happened last night, of course it did. Around 1 AM I woke up from a dream that played with my mind afterwards.
As long as I can remember this has happened, every single night.
Maybe it wouldn’t bother much so much if those dreams were pleasant, but they never are. I cannot recall a single time when I woke up and felt disappointed that the dream had come to an end already.
Sometimes they are scary, and usually weird. And they always show scenes from the past, usually from 20 to 30 years ago.
Last week my dad (who died in 1995) and I were making our way through a forest. Suddenly we came to a swamp that we could not cross of course. Before we could decide what to do next, a huge alligator appeared and approached us.
We ran away as fast as we could but the animal still gained on us. Then I realized that the only option was to fight it. I turned around and hit it repeatedly on the nose with a plastic fly swatter that I happened to carry with me.
It slowed him down for a little while and I kept swatting as fast as I could while dad watched from a distance.
A goat showed up out of nowhere and the alligator went after it, probably deciding it was easier to get. Suddenly and without warning we were safe again.
The dream was clear and even after a week I still remember it in detail.