It might be manifest in the hesitation to open the mailbox, or in putting off that visit to the doctor's office for your annual physical. It's like the origin of the euphemism, you can't sleep because you know it's coming. You can insure for the loss, but you can't ensure that it won't happen. I guess it's just the determinist in me that's talking this way. Amy would tell you, "It's in the book." That's some kind of Buddhist thing that she's always telling me.
So, it was inevitable that someday I was going to lose interest in maintaining this blog in its community notices format and just stick to the personal observations (mostly of dogs and chickens). I see others around town who are burning themselves out as Yellow Springs Village cheerleaders. They just don't know it yet. Or to put it another way, the other shoe hasn't yet dropped. Personally, I'm on the verge of becoming a recluse and the next steps with the blog are probably interim.
In any event, the title "Back Story" for my musings seemed to fit better when I was an ersatz news source. It no longer seems appropriate. So, as I continue my ramblings, waiting for you-know-what, I think I'll go with "The Other Shoe."
We got a new TV a few weeks ago. The old one lost it's picture and the estimate to repair it was almost exactly the same as the cost to replace it. I'm pretty low-tech when it comes to television. I like a big screen, but 1080p LEDs are lost on me. I just have to be able to crank up the volume to where I can hear Patrick Jane talk in whispered tones about his nemesis, Red John. So I'm still behind the curve, where I am always comfortable.
I've written in the past about how my dog is an avid fan of television, especially dog food ads. She thinks the screen is really a window, and that every thing dangerous portrayed thereupon is about to leap into our living room. I was hoping there would be something about the new TV that would change all that. But, unfortunately, that was not in the book. Now, she seems to be barking at more than just animals, children and evil looking people. She's barking at almost everything. Fortunately, her bed time is nine o'clock. Just about the time the good stuff comes on.
I read something recently that made sense to me about how to stop your dog from barking. The thing is to show them that there is nothing to be afraid of. So, shortly after we got the new set, I picked her up as she was barking at a prolonged display of dogs running around in a yard and carried her over to the TV. I put her nose about six inches from the screen and, in a soothing tone, explained to her that these dogs were not real and could do us no harm. She seemed to buy it, as she stopped barking immediately, and remained calm even after I put her back on the floor.
The dog weighs 45 pounds. My back isn't what it used to be - in fact, it never was. I had no idea how many times I would have to do this. But, the dog had other ideas, anyway. The next time I tried to pick her up during a fit of barking, she dodged me like RGIII and continued hurling abuse at the images on the screen as she ran around the living room, successfully evading my open arms. Once she gets under the dining room table, all hope is lost.
Why do you keep such an animal? you ask... We were in New York for a few days last week. All I could think about was how much I missed my dog. I couldn't wait to get home. And I wasn't disappointed with the greeting I got when I opened the door. She came flying down the stairs to meet me and threw herself at me with all her strength, her sheer joy expressed through a bodily motion that is almost impossible to describe. Tail wagging dog? That's about as close as I can get.
Kalson was in charge of Suki while we were gone. He and his girlfriend walked her every night on something close to our usual route.
"What's with this dog?" he said when we returned. "Everybody knows her name."
"Well, of course," I said, "she's probably the most famous dog in Yellow Springs."