Dogs

Story of my life. Not those adorable four-legged creatures but the dog as in dogma or doggerel barking into other unexpected places.

My adolescent years, which may have extended into my late 20s, were marked first by a no-pet apartment building which prohibited any non-human species except for pet rocks. As I recall, I didn’t even have any stuffed animals or inflatable ones.

What I did have was unshakeable political opinions which found a home in Marxist ideology, the pure form of which has never been tried. Absolutes were a good fit. Somewhere along the way it was pointed out to me that my unyielding beliefs were a kind of dogma. That opened the door a crack.

Enough for me to take up the pen and write bad poetry. Light, juvenile, meaningless doggerel came easily to me and it was, at least, a way to get unserious.

Being un-seriously serious, finding levity in the gravity is one way to weather the storms of life. Not as a strategy, but when it comes naturally, I let it happen.

Take the dogwood tree, for example. It is both cursed and blessed by Christians. Reviled for allegedly furnishing the crucifixion branches and then revered for being associated with redemption and resurrection owing to the floral crosses of their petals. One doesn't question doggedly held metaphors.

My dissertation on dogs finds an ignoble ending with the seriously serious DOGE. Whereas dogs offer a deep emotional attachment, extended compassion and companionship, Musk’s DOGE are dispassionate hounds that bark and snarl. Unlike St. Bernards, famous for rescuing, they have pit-bulled their way into dedicated lives biting off the careers and good work of thousands. They see humans as fire hydrants.

I still have a nose for dogma and the rabid actions of DOGE are no less dogmatic in their acts of despotism. These are the dogs of Bull Connor terrorizing civil rights marchers or the Doberman Pinschers and Rottweilers set upon inmates at Auschwitz. May they soon be muzzled.