Day 78: The Unheard

Bessie let me sleep till 6:45 this morning!

This Martin Luther King, Jr. quote is making the viral rounds: A riot is the language of the unheard. Meanwhile, Trump inflames the unrest with incendiary rhetoric. Around the country police are targeting law-abiding journalists exercising their American right to cover the protests. They’ve been arrested and injured. Two have had an eye blinded by rubber bullets.

On The Daily Show, Trevor Noah said:

You know, what’s really interesting about what is happening in America right now is that a lot of people don’t seem to realize how dominoes connect: how one pieces knocks another piece, that knocks another piece, and in the end it creates a giant wave.

It’s an excellent metaphor for what’s happening now.

I got a text from my former English conversation partner from South Korea. She lives near my neighborhood and wrote to say she was worried about me. It turns out she’d seen an advisory alert about a police action four doors up the street from me. Did you know that there’s a site where you can enter your zip code and see law enforcement activity there? Sure enough, there was a warning to stay away from my corner. Bessie and I didn’t go look but Elana did, to make sure a black person wasn’t being harassed. There she saw a someone getting all decked out in a big hazmat-type suit, reportedly preparing to enter a small commercial building. It was a couple hours before the street was reopened, and I have no idea what really happened.

For a while this afternoon, Bessie lay at my feet, butt-quarters aimed in my direction, tooting in her sleep. Oh, man, I’d forgotten about that with dogs. She also snores and has a lot of bad dreams with unhappy yelps.

On our daily walk, during which she refused to do her necessary excretory duties, I met a friendly woman with a calm Australian shepherd that was (against city regulations) off-leash. She asked if her dog could greet mine. I quickly declined the offer before her dog could get any closer, saying Bessie is too new to me. Bessie didn’t take any particular interest in the old girl, one way or another—that I could detect. But being anxious that my dog could turn on someone else’s is not what I had in mind when I adopted one promised to be good with other hounds. My wonderful friend Vicki just offered a meet-and-greet with her sweet little dog, but I turned that down as well. It’s better if an expert does an introduction.

I talked to my dear ex-sister-in-law today, who ended our conversation by telling me in her usual blunt way that I’d sounded “weird.” I replied that I suppose I am weird, especially because of Bessie-stress. I ain’t quite myself, with the continuing uncertainty and worry. She’s a dog lover who’s uncomfortable with the idea of rescue dogs for the good reason that you have no idea what abuse or neglect they’ve been through. She thought that Bessie’s having been separated from her puppies could make her crazy. But shelter dogs can make great pets too. You just don’t know what you’re getting.

Next Bessie milestone: a vet appointment in six days, forty-five minutes away. I wonder how she’ll do when they take her from the car without me, which is the protocol these days.

2 comments

  1. I guess that process will also tell you something about her. I do so hope things will go well!

  2. 6:45! Wahoo.

    That’s strange about the local police activity. I just googled around about it but couldn’t find anything more.

    If it helps: Sarah’s dog had also had puppies and had been separated from them, and has since adjusted extremely well, nonetheless.

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