I’m Not The Only One Down In The Dumps Around Here

William Southold | Opinion Columnist |The Southold Report
“Speaking fiction to power one story at a time.”

I think it’s this damn home-boundness that’s getting to me, but I didn’t expect it to affect our dog, such an upbeat soul. But that’s all I could conclude just looking at her when I came through the back room into the kitchen.

“Want some coffee?” I offered. “You look like you need it.”

“No, just wanted to make sure I caught you first thing.” She sat up. “I think we should take a long walk. I think it will do both of us good.”

“So you’re feeling it too, this malaise - all this separation.”

“I have my buddies at the park, but yes. A long walk is what we both need. Don’t argue. At least let me make the decision on this one. I need to make more decisions around here, at least where you’re concerned, but we won’t get into that now.”

“But I was just going to get a cup . . .”

“Will - eee - yum! Put down the cup and back away! Get these New Balance on. We’re going for a walk!”

So you guessed it, we were quickly out the door.

“You need me, face it,” were the first words that passed between us, from Middie to me, as she could see I was enjoying the fresh air and the magnificent colors of the early morning sunrise sky.

I humphed, but not because I was short of breath. We walked through neighborhoods we seldom see, past shuttered shops, and very few people. Finally we ended up at the dog park, where I could, at last, catch my breath. Middie took off, but was soon back.

“You see that poodle over there, the big one?” she asked me.

I allowed as I did. “What about . . . him,” I said, as I took notice of his three legged attitude towards the fence.

“He needs a change of venue, and I told him I would ask you about it. Would you be willing to take him in, if only on a temporary basis? His name is Francois, but he said to call him Frank.”

“I don’t know. What’s going on?”

“Well, his current living situation is that he’s living in the home of an over-the-top, ardent Trump supporter. One who watches Trump say the most deranged things - ‘Biden’s going to take away your guns, has no religion, hurt the Bible, hurt God,’ and he’s sick of it.”

“I agree. Shameless.”

“Yes. But Frank’s housemate cheers Trump on - ‘right on, you tell’m how it is, Trump!’”. She paused. “Frank can’t take any more. He wants out.”

“And you think I should take him home with us.”

“Just temporarily. Until you can help him find a new home.”

“And what about Frank’s housemate? Wouldn’t he object?”

“Evidently not. His housemate has no time for him. He’s been trying to unload Frank for a while now, but apparently he doesn’t know any dog lovers. Not surprised, he’s probably as self centered as Trump and self centered people don’t tend to have dogs as roommates.”

“Well . . .”

“You’re a good guy, you’ve got friends, I bet you could find a welcoming home for Frank in no time.”

“I’d have to ask the Mrs.”

“Of course. I know she would do it.”

I paused and thought, then said, “I’ll do it.”

“You’re a good man, Southold. Proud to be your friend.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been moping a bit lately,” she said.

“You know, being cooped up, all the depressing news.”

“You’ll be surprised how your simple act of kindness will lift the darkest clouds of malaise.”

So we were off on a new adventure. Somehow Middie always comes up with them. She’s a great friend and companion, and one I’m lucky to have. I can feel my clouded mood lifting already, as I report this.

And she’s right about another thing. I need her.

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