My “Something Good” Report
If you’ve ever listened to The Bobby Bones Show on the radio, you’re probably familiar with a feature they do every morning called “Tell Me Something Good.” It is, as the title implies, an opportunity to report a good deed or some good thing that happened, and serves as a well deserved break from the usual thumbs down, man-that’s-depressing news. The following is my “Something Good” report.
(Be forewarned. It gets bad before it gets good. Kind of like 2020. Right? I mean, it is going to get good, eventually, one of these days, sometime... right...?)
It all started with a wedding.
Who gets married when nasty, viral droplets are loitering in the air, skulking around every corner, poised to strike unsuspecting mortals and mow them down, mercilessly pillaging our cities and towns, marauding across the country like Genghis Khan on a bender? Answer: My stepson.
Back when he and his fiancé planned their wedding, COVID was a meaningless acronym (Canned Olives Vith Individual Dressing... Canaries Of Varying Interplanetary Development... Camp On Virtual Indigenous Drylakes...) and had yet to leap out of a flying mammal to beat the snot out of civilization. After the snot beating began, my stepson and his fiancé assumed, as we all did, that this it would be over and done with by November. I mean, come on... It started in February! It’ll be a distant memory by fall (“‘Ethel, you ‘member that durn Chinese bat crap that was goin’ ‘round?”).
We were, of course, collectively and summarily wrong. We all get an “F” in global humanitarian crisis predictive skills.
The bad news, as you know, is that instead of better, things kept getting worse. The good news is that this did not deter the happy couple. So despite the risks involved, family and friends flocked to the wedding as only family and friends can flock, and celebrated the blessed union. (As of this writing, we have all lived to tell about it. Zero - cero - rona reports.)
Returning from this slightly perilous, a tiny bit dangerous but very worthwhile trip, Fran and I gave a collective sigh of relief. Whew! We had avoided the sharp, canine teeth of the pandemic and were now safe at home.
A couple of days later, however, those sharp, canine teeth showed up in the form of actual sharp, canine teeth. As we were leisurely walking our three friendly dogs around our friendly neighborhood, a pair of large, not-at-all-friendly dogs jumped us. They were leashless, masterless, and, apparently, in the mood to rumble.
The attack was swift and coordinated. The first dog lunged while the second parried. The second dog pounced while the first dog dodged. As I tried to keep the two dogs I was steering - Nacho, our elderly, kindhearted Lab/Pitbull mix, and Bella, our youngish, German Shepard/Something mix - from mixing it up and/or bolting, Fran retreated with our Aussie/Border Collie. What followed was a chaotic frenzy of growling, biting, snarling, fighting, yelling, and kicking...
As we were leisurely walking our three friendly dogs around our friendly neighborhood, a pair of large, not-at-all-friendly dogs jumped us. They were leashless, masterless, and, apparently, in the mood to rumble.
I was in charge of the kicking and yelling while the attacking dogs handled the growling, biting, snarling, and fighting. In the process, I tripped over Bella and landed on the sidewalk. Behind me, Fran had done the same thing. What followed was a ground attack and a two pronged defensive strategy: more kicking, more yelling. Not-friendly dog one eventually latched onto Bella’s back leg and wouldn’t let go. With perfect synchronization, not-friendly dog number two grabbed Nachos head in his mouth, and wouldn’t let go.
After what seemed like a really, REALLY long time, a guy came around the corner and called his dogs. The not-friendlies released their grips but didn’t back away. We did the backing. I was done kicking. But I was still yelling. It wasn’t nice yelling like, “Way to go!” It was loud, angry yelling, like, “What the @#$%!!! You !!@##!!” Etc.
The guy quickly snatched up his dogs and disappeared around the corner, and we were left to limp home. We soon learned that Nacho had a puncture wound to his head and a scratch on his nose. Bella ended up needing a trip to the emergency vet. When we brought her home, several hours later, she had multiple stitches, a cone, three kinds of meds, and a bill for nearly $800.
I’m telling you this because my initial reaction was less than kindhearted. I wanted to find the guy who let his not-friendly dogs run free and pound his face in. I also wanted to turn him upside down and shake him until enough money fell out of his pockets to cover the vet bill. Thankfully, I didn’t do that. Which is where the Something Good part finally comes in.
Fran posted about the dog brawl incident on our local neighborhood social media. She, like me, was hopping mad and wanted people to know that rogue beasts were roaming the streets, wreaking havoc, ruthlessly imposing their will, and also doing a lot of biting. Not long after her post, someone responded. It was the guy. THE guy - the owner of the non-friendlies! Instead of denying the attack, rationalizing, arguing, or inviting me over to engage in fisticuffs, he (get this) apologized. Seriously. In addition to that, he not only offered to pay the vet bill, he actually did pay it that day. (What??!)
I know, right?! Insanity! Label me stunned, dumbfounded, amazed, and about a hundred other synonyms for blown away. Just when I was ready to write off the human race as a bunch of irresponsible jerkwads, this guy steps up and does the right thing.
Nacho and Bella will be fine. They’re courageous dogs who don’t back down when bark comes to bite. Sure, Bella has to wear that dorky cone for a week or so and is bumping into every object and corner in our house, as well as each individual stair, repeatedly. But it’s character building. For all of us. It reminds us that we can deal with more than we think we can.
If we can endure a pandemic, job losses, wildfires, street riots, a contested election, an unexpected house guest, travel across the country for a wedding wearing masks and bathing in sanitizer, and survive a rather vicious, no bueno, dos perros attack, I think we can survive just about anything.
But I’m kinda hoping we don’t have to.
THANKSGIVING CHALLENGE: Along the lines of the above Something Good report, I would like to challenge you to be intentionally thankful in the coming week. To celebrate Thanksgiving, Fran and I are going to fast from complaining and make a point of verbalizing our gratefulness. We’re also going to post something we’re thankful for each day up and through Thanksgiving. Why not join us?