Thanks, as always, Steven for distilling these clarifying points to lead to an understanding far greater than the topic sentence. Your writing is masterful.
Hazel is a beautiful girl! I’ll admit I’m crazy about dogs. When my younger sister died suddenly when we were children, it was our family dog who helped me get through the overwhelming grief more than any human did.
Later in my life I had two dogs that woke me when our house was on fire. The fire started in the middle of the night when I was sound asleep and I was almost already overcome by the smoke when I realized my dogs were frantically barking at me. I tried to get out of bed several times but fell back into an unconscious state. My dogs kept barking & pawing at me and eventually I was able to get up. But I didn’t realize what was happening.
I put on my sweatshirt & pants because that was my routine upon awakening every day in order to take the dogs out. We went out the back door and made our way around to the front of my house. As I was standing there with a leash in each hand, I glanced at my house and saw flames several feet high on top of the garage.
Upon seeing that, my dogs and I ran to the back door. I entered the house, realized it was full of smoke, grabbed my phone, and ran back outside. I’m not a person who is easily frightened, but my hands were shaking so much I was unable to accurately
push 911. I finally stabilized the phone by holding it against my body and managed to make the call that way.
The next thing to do was wake up the neighbors on both sides of my house. It was dawn so most people were just waking up.
The fire trucks were there in minutes thankfully because there were two cars in my garage and their gas tanks were full.
The fire was contained before it could spread to my neighbors houses, but the firemen blocked off the entire street and there were at least 5 fire trucks and a bus, I guess to evacuate people. I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered there was a giant underground propane tank right across the street, literally about 20 yards away, that heated the community swimming pool.
Alls well that ends well I guess. We had to move out of our house, of course, for about six weeks. But no one was hurt, my cars didn’t explode and the fire didn’t spread beyond my house. By the way, God forbid you should have to call the fire department, but if you do, keep this in mind: The 911 operator will always ask how you know your house is on fire. I have a cousin who was a 911 operator and she had told me that a lot of people call and say their house is on fire when it was just a piece of toast caught in the toaster or something similar, so they always ask why you think there’s a fire. The answer they’re looking for is this, “I can see the flames.”
Thank you, Steven, for these observations. My dad was a product of the Great Depression. He lived on a small farm where his father and uncles had dogs for hunting. In that time you scraped for everything you could get, so the dogs were basically utilitarian. That is what my dad learned and it impacted my own young mindset. Upon going out on my own it "took me two dogs" before I truly appreciated their most wonderful nature. Our last dog, Molly, a golden retriever, who passed last fall at age 12 stole our hearts entirely; we still miss her terribly. Don't get me wrong; Chris and Bandit, the first two dogs, were not abused, were well fed and sheltered, and were considered part of the family. They just did not make it into my heart the way Molly did. That was a lack on my part and I know that my personal growth has made a better person of me. I do not consider the tears as I scrolled through the words and photos of President and First Lady Biden's twitter page to be any sign of weakness at all. Bless them and you as well, Steven.
Thanks, as always, Steven for distilling these clarifying points to lead to an understanding far greater than the topic sentence. Your writing is masterful.
How can Democrats think they can negotiate with a party who mocks someone over the loss of a beloved family dog?
Hazel is beautiful. Compassion for all sentient beings is a value we need much more of. Biden’s ability to share is loss reminds us of that.
Dog lovers all over the world grieve with you, Mr. President.
absolutely!!!!
Nicely said and I’m glad your dog approves!
Beautiful. Thank you.
His loss
Hazel is a beautiful girl! I’ll admit I’m crazy about dogs. When my younger sister died suddenly when we were children, it was our family dog who helped me get through the overwhelming grief more than any human did.
Later in my life I had two dogs that woke me when our house was on fire. The fire started in the middle of the night when I was sound asleep and I was almost already overcome by the smoke when I realized my dogs were frantically barking at me. I tried to get out of bed several times but fell back into an unconscious state. My dogs kept barking & pawing at me and eventually I was able to get up. But I didn’t realize what was happening.
I put on my sweatshirt & pants because that was my routine upon awakening every day in order to take the dogs out. We went out the back door and made our way around to the front of my house. As I was standing there with a leash in each hand, I glanced at my house and saw flames several feet high on top of the garage.
Upon seeing that, my dogs and I ran to the back door. I entered the house, realized it was full of smoke, grabbed my phone, and ran back outside. I’m not a person who is easily frightened, but my hands were shaking so much I was unable to accurately
push 911. I finally stabilized the phone by holding it against my body and managed to make the call that way.
The next thing to do was wake up the neighbors on both sides of my house. It was dawn so most people were just waking up.
The fire trucks were there in minutes thankfully because there were two cars in my garage and their gas tanks were full.
The fire was contained before it could spread to my neighbors houses, but the firemen blocked off the entire street and there were at least 5 fire trucks and a bus, I guess to evacuate people. I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered there was a giant underground propane tank right across the street, literally about 20 yards away, that heated the community swimming pool.
Alls well that ends well I guess. We had to move out of our house, of course, for about six weeks. But no one was hurt, my cars didn’t explode and the fire didn’t spread beyond my house. By the way, God forbid you should have to call the fire department, but if you do, keep this in mind: The 911 operator will always ask how you know your house is on fire. I have a cousin who was a 911 operator and she had told me that a lot of people call and say their house is on fire when it was just a piece of toast caught in the toaster or something similar, so they always ask why you think there’s a fire. The answer they’re looking for is this, “I can see the flames.”
Thank you, Steven, for these observations. My dad was a product of the Great Depression. He lived on a small farm where his father and uncles had dogs for hunting. In that time you scraped for everything you could get, so the dogs were basically utilitarian. That is what my dad learned and it impacted my own young mindset. Upon going out on my own it "took me two dogs" before I truly appreciated their most wonderful nature. Our last dog, Molly, a golden retriever, who passed last fall at age 12 stole our hearts entirely; we still miss her terribly. Don't get me wrong; Chris and Bandit, the first two dogs, were not abused, were well fed and sheltered, and were considered part of the family. They just did not make it into my heart the way Molly did. That was a lack on my part and I know that my personal growth has made a better person of me. I do not consider the tears as I scrolled through the words and photos of President and First Lady Biden's twitter page to be any sign of weakness at all. Bless them and you as well, Steven.