Call of Dooty

Yes, our old flea-infested self-described "mutt" Bark Obama is back...and therein hangs a tail (see what I did there?). So bear with me - today I'm going to ramble a bit, but I also have a point.

For those of you who follow Hope n' Change closely of your own volition (as opposed to our nation's security agencies, who read this as part of their job duties) you'll know that in early November of last year, the Jarlsberg family sadly lost our much-beloved dog Maggie (and you're damn right her name was a tip of the hat to Lady Thatcher). It hurt a lot. Still does, for that matter.

The last time this happened, we went years without getting another dog. Mind you, Mrs. Jarlsberg and Daughter Jarlsberg were ready...but I dragged my feet, afraid to get hurt again. And in the end, Maggie (an undernourished stray, heavy with child and not having easy access to Planned Puppinghood) wandered into our lives and adopted us. All of her ten pups went to good homes, and Maggie became a vital part of our family - and a huge comfort and calming presence when life and politics felt overwhelming.

I could easily drag my feet for years once again - except for the fact that I know in my heart that those dogless years were a mistake and an act of emotional cowardice. Which is why on Monday, my family went to a shelter and selected a new pup with whom to share our home and lives. Not to replace Maggie, but to become a new furry family member.

And frankly, I'm scared about it. Scared of getting hurt again, scared of the work and sleepless nights it will take to raise a pup (even with huge help from the whole family), scared of doing it wrong, and scared of the deep emotions that I've been suppressing and must now confront.

BUT (weren't you really hoping that I'd stop whining like a liberal about now?) I'm moving ahead with it all because I want change...and I have hope that we can make things work.

Oh yeah! Hope and Change.

And it occurred to me today that there's a parallel between my personal situation and the broader political picture. A parallel which is undeniably clear if, and I can't recommend this highly enough, you're drinking.

And this is it: I really want Change for the better...and I have Hope that I will have the strength, the endurance, and the responsibility to make it happen.

But that's not the same kind of Hope and Change that Barack Obama sold America (twice, God help us). He pushed Change that, realistically, couldn't happen - and that he had no intention of making happen. And he pushed Hope that really amounted to blind faith...with no work or commitment on a personal level required from the voters.  They wanted it all free - and that's exactly what the Kenyan Lion Dog promised them.

And here's an additional thought which occurred to me. I'm currently reading scads of puppy training manuals, emphasizing the ways you encourage good behavior and discourage bad behavior. And guess what? The American press and electorate have done everything wrong when it came to training president Bark Obama before giving him free run of the White House.

There must be rules, and they must be consistently and immediately enforced. Good behavior needs to be rewarded, and bad behavior needs to see those rewards withdrawn. Otherwise, as years go by, you end up with horrible behavioral problems...

Peeing all over everything, destroying precious heirlooms, pooping in inappropriate places, tearing things to pieces just for the fun of it, begging and always wanting more more more, and totally inappropriate licking and humping.

I'm referring, of course, to Barack Hussein Obama. 

But I'm pretty sure that without guidance and discipline, these things could happen to a dog, too.

 Here she is - Miss Hope n' Change 2014!
She's 3 months old, a mix of Shepherd and fast-talking stranger, 

and she currently lacks a name. Any suggestions, folks?