Doggone These Dog Days

Apparently, for about twenty minutes today--while we were wandering Woods Park--Finn was dead, which would have surprised both of us, had we noticed, especially considering how diligently he was stalking the squirrels.  Halfway through the walk, my brother called to tell me about Finn's untimely death.  Or at least what people had perceived as his untimely passing.

My bad.  

I consider myself a halfway decent wordsmith, but I had clearly botched things up with this morning's Facebook post.  I thought I was being playful with the concept of time, referencing how the past four years had felt like a decade, how--heck!--the past week had felt like a year and, yet,  how I couldn't believe the speed with which nine years had passed since we'd first gotten Finn.  I posted it and then we went went galumphing on our way.

One condolence quickly snowballed into a small collective of digital grief, until I pulled the plug on the post, post haste.  A few awkward PMs and a revamped post later, and we'd mostly cleared things up.  Good news for Finn!

But I was left with a sense of how quickly we go dark these days, and what a price our lightness pays because of that. 

Worn down by endless days of repellant rhetoric, fractured factions and calamitous COVID, we eventually find ourselves stripped of nuance.  No more subtle greys--just black and white.  But mostly black.  I've certainly seen it in myself.  My dull brain has missed many a pun this year, for example, and I recently interpreted a yelp from Finn as proof of a sinister disease ravaging him. One meant a missed opportunity to giggle, while the other became a wasted visit to the vet, nuance but a wispy memory.

We all seem to be on edge right now, quick to misinterpret and slow to celebrate.  Boy, am I ready for a return to lightness, to a time when I once again can discern intent, pick up on subtlety, bust a gut with my buds.  Because this?  This is an unsatisfying place to be.  Especially if you're a dog, just trying to celebrate your "gotcha day" with an extra walk or two and maybe another handful of kibble.