This Morning

Our top story this morning is the appearance of a stray black dog on the porch this morning. As I was reading my book, I heard my roommate leave for her appoinment with the doctor. After her initial footsteps were gone, I heard some lesser footsteps. I assumed that it was just the particular way the wind was whistling through the trees and returned to my reading. But the glint of something moving caught my eye above the book, and there was a new stranger. He walked the length of the porch and came towards me. He stared me dead on, moved slightly towards me, then turned and went. He then went round the corner and was gone. I was so baffled by the chain of events, I stayed glued to my seat. I tried to resume reading, but needed to rise to make sure what I had viewed was not an illusion. I rose and rushed to see if I could catch at least a glimpse of the dog. Imagine my surprise when I saw nothing!

But he emerged from behind a neighbor's bush and normal breathing returned to my system. As homeostasis returned, my paranoia still did not relent. I thought somehow I viewed it as a sign. Should I get a dog like that? Does a black dog predict something more omnous? Sleep deprivation makes one silly. Maybe divine providence was guiding me along the path in some way.

So as I was talking to Doodlebug, my newest friend six hours away in a country where the young are so mighty they beat Brazil in football matches, I was searching for any symbolism regarding black dogs. Churchill once referred to his own depression as his "black dog." It also was a hit for Led Zeppelin in the early 70s. The Wikipedia article alleges that either the sexually suggestive anthem was titled for a loitering black dog in the studio or might be more of a secretive invocation to a divine being due to its similarities with a novel's name for a club of occult.

Yeah I'm starting to lose interest too, though I was feeling kind of spiritual at that moment. In my second trip to the porch once Doodlebug was kicked out, I viewed my neighbors playing catch in the street. They are in their mid 30s - early 40s yet in the middle of the day, they were in the middle of the street playing catch. While I admire the carefree attitude and playfulness at such an age, their regular dallaince with permanent transience is troubling. If I can somehow stack some paper so I can support my whims and fancies, that would be lovely. But I suppose I will hustle as hard as I have to so my wife and children can everything they need and lead the life I wish to have. If I can't live it for myself, at least I can live it through my family.

Okay I need to write my e-mail. I missed writing on this thing so I dropped something super quick.