Okay. So it’s the 4th of July. Woo? I’m not one to really care about patriotic holidays. In high school I never wore our team colors, never went to sporting events other than that one Homecoming game freshman year because my best friend talked me into it. Anyway. I didn’t care about our sports teams or really have “school spirit”. I was an art kid. And the way I felt about my high school is kind of how I feel about America. I don’t root for us in the Olympics, really. Or care about wearing red, white, and blue on patriotic holidays. I don’t see today as being anything special because of how screwed up our government, healthcare, school, and food systems are. What are we celebrating? Our freedom to buy one dollar cheeseburgers from the gas station loaded with mystery meats and processed bread? Our freedom to dive thousands of dollars into debt for a higher level education that won’t even guarantee us a job once we graduate? Our freedom to act like Nationalistic cooks who hang flags from our trucks, drink till we can’t walk straight, and set off illegal explosives in our back yards? Good job, fellow Americans. I applaud you for being able to do one thing right.
But hey. This post isn’t about my great desire to leave this country the first opportunity I get. This is about a dog named Yoda. Yes, the cute one in the photo. It’s been nearly three years since I saw her last, when she was only six months old right around Christmas 2009. She came to stay at our house while her mommy and daddy went on a trip and oh the fun we had. It’s always amazing to me to spend time with other people’s dogs. And how well-behaved they are. Even if their owner disagrees. Other people’s dogs are a lot more fun to hang out with, too. ‘Cause they’re new and exciting. And at the end of the day (or week) they go home to someone else and you are left only with the wonderful memories of playing together.