Monday, February 15, 2010

The beagle and I were watching the 134th Westminster Kennel Dog Show and he was giving one of those sad empathic looks because he thought the blog I just posted was sad, or at least kind of down. Then a whippet won the hound competition and the beagle demanded that we turn off the TV and go out for a walk.

So I am depressed for things beyond my control and so is the dog. Is there a fix in at the University of Ottawa Heart Institute? The beagle is sure that the whippet has pictures of a judge driving his niece around in Vegas. But he drags me off, in the dark, to the Valley of Fireflies. The valley in the winter does not really merit a capital V, at least not tonight. It is hard to make out detail in the moonless sky. Most of the light is artificial light that is reflecting off the clouds. He has better night eyes than I, but he is parked, staring out at the tufts of grass and cats tails and reeds that are sticking out through the snow. So why are we looking at this? He looks at me, then stares back at the valley and then closes his eyes. What is he thinking?

And then I have it!! In about four months time the valley becomes a Valley. When we walk down then (and we will) the Valley of Fireflies will be alight with a thousand lights that will flicker and shimmer and shine like a Light Show of the Angels. All of this delight and hope is just under the snow, biding its time. The firefly cannot come out until the time is right.

So the beagle looks at me, with one ear a little askew, wondering I have figured it out. Yes master, I have. Timing is everything in comedy and evidently in matters of the heart as well. So we walk back; I am content again. We come back and I ask if we go back to Westminster. Naw, he says, lets flip to Food Network. We can check the Olympics and the Dog Show tomorrow on the ‘net. I am very content and the dog is snoring. Life is good.

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