Pardon My French

Long before I came to love cats, dogs were, and still are, an integral part of my life.

Having reached the stage of life where I'm letting attrition take its course, it's hard to realize that my two current dogs will be my last. Butterbean, eight pounds of affection, trust, and tolerance, has turned six this year. Maya is twelve this month, a compact, small package of suspicion, wild energy, and uncontrolled curiosity, not on the least mellowed by her age. They're best friends and couldn't be more different. Together with the cats, they make up my family and a good part of my world.

One lives to please, the other to defy. One cuddles, the other squirms. One would lead an intruder to the silverware, the other would take off his leg. They're an odd match, this purebred and this little mutt - but the bond between them is strong, constantly reminding me that different is good, that individuality sets us apart from the crowd, that we all have a place in the choir and that no harmony comes from a single voice, no matter how pure or strong or loud. I suspect congress could learn something from my dogs.

Christmas may well be the only season that this is as easy done as said. One morning this week I listened as a patient ranted about the government, with special emphasis on "the nigger in the White House". He lowered his voice for that particular turn of phrase, I would like to hope he was unsure how it would be received but it's more likely he wanted us to think that he was quoting someone else. Pardon my French, he added as an afterthought, then went on to tell us about the loophole in the health care reform act that would end in his life if he came to be in a hospital on life support. Government ain't got no right to play God, he asserted, No damn right a'tall. Until that moment, this had been a patient I liked, an easy going grandfather of six, polite and friendly. This small glimpse of the man underneath was disturbing and even after so many years in the south, more than a little remarkable.
Racism in this small southern city is a natural fact of life for all too many who are otherwise reasonable and respectable people - people who follow the flag, celebrate their heritage, vote conservative and believe in their own human rights but not always the rights of others.

On the whole, I much prefer dogs to republicans and cats to democrats. Four footed creatures don't care about skin color, gender or getting re-elected.