The Lost Decade

The Lost Weekend, a great movie about alcoholism and sliding downward into the horrors of addiction. I know people can lose a weekend, but can they lose a decade? Recently, I was reading an article about how to name the decade of the 2000-2010 period, my vote is for the lost decade, the decade in which we, Americans lost so much. What exactly did we lose?

Our stature in the world?

Our ability to retain some moral high ground?

Our belief in science?

Our faith in the political process?

Our economic progress achieved in the 1990s?

Our economic balance between rich and pool?

Our middle class?

Our imperial nature as economic and social realities take preeminence?

Our battle over immigration and control of our borders?

Our sense of safety and security in the world?

Our minds as we listened to the Orwellian double-speak put forth by politicians and talk-radio?

All of the above?

Again, my vote is for the lost decade, one in which we got drunk on denial, denied science on global warming and so much else, denied the reality of what was happening economically and on wall street, as we got drunk on debt and homes and things we couldn't afford, and got drunk on some puffed up belief of ourselves as the world's bad cop, going out to kick butt like some drunk in a bar fight, and set up our sheriff in a wild west town with no laws and no interest in a legal structure, but somehow expect those laws to be enforced.

Sound familiar? The lost weekend, but worse, on a national and global scare.

Pets and People

Like most people I love my pets. Like an extra child who will never grow up, who I will likely have to suffer through their death, care for them when ill, maintain their health in the meantime etc. What we get in return is, of course, great pleasure, unconditional love. It is not the love of a child who eventually will outgrow you and leave, who will say in a fit of anger "I hate you." You will not get ignored as children will do. Pets, particularly dogs, are always happy to see you when you come home from a long day at work. They want love and attention and food and a walk, like children, but then don't ask for more. They don't care about the latest video game or movie, or what their friends think about their clothes. A dog doesn't care about a designer collar or leash, just cares about the food in the dish, does it have water, can it pee and poop outside, did it get walked? The relationship between animals and people is something fascinating to me. We talk about our pets as though they were our children. We find them comforting when we are sick or disabled. Therapy dogs, seeing eye dogs, companion dogs for those with food allergies or epilepsy, veterans who need assistance and so on.

Most of these dogs (but not all due to inbreeding) could survive in wild without us. But could we survive without them?We use them for hunting, guarding and police work, rodent control. shepherding, in addition to their other functions. We are truly co-dependent with them.

Maybe that explains our fascination with zoos and nature shows, "Animal Planet", "National Geographic", and movies about animals. Our fascination extending to imaging what are they thinking? what would they say, as if they were human?

My husband always wonders, do dogs really remember us? Do they have a perception of time? Our question was answered recently watching numerous videos on uTube as soldiers return from the Middle East to their dogs who clearly recognize them, and are so thrilled to see them that both the dogs and people are crying in their own way. Truly moving to watch as these animals clearly knew their owner had been gone longer than usual, definitely not just another day at the office.