Nothing to Do

 

http://www.lisegagne.com  Lise Gagne.

Marching along Downer Street, I spy two senior women getting into a bright blue sedan. They look the same: curly short gray hair, thick glasses, strange stripped sweaters. Lovers? Friends? Sisters?

            I remember how my Grandma Birdie and her sister, Aunt Tea, lived together for decades after their husbands were no longer in the picture. They, too, looked the same. As a kid, I just saw two old ladies, yelling at the televised baseball games, TV trays filled with Aunt Tea’s delicious cooking. And, I’ll always remember them yelling: “Those Damn Dodgers!”

            So, today, as I approach these two old ladies, I wonder if they’re sisters like Birdie and Tea.

            Their house is across the street from the Barking Dog. Granted there are a LOT of barking dogs on my walks, but this one is especially ferocious and loud. It’s a Shephard mix and a young dog. Whenever I pass, and now I cross the street, it sets off in a tremendous frenzied barking.

            I hate it.

            As I pass the two ladies, I try to joke about it, “That dog has a lot to say.”

            One of them looks straight at me through her thick glasses, shaking her head, the short gray hair not moving an inch from a recent trip to the beauty parlor or a lot of White Rain. “And nothing to do!” she quips. “That’s the problem!”

            I laugh softly, agreeing, as I continue past them. The dog still barking its head off. And I think, yes. This is probably just what the problem is. The dog needs a job. It needs purpose in its life. Without this, it will just release all the working energy with maniacal barking.

            Poor dog.

            I do feel a little sorry for it now. It’s not its fault that it has nothing to do. I remember back to the day when before I reached the Barking Dog’s house, I saw its owner getting into a dilapidated Toyota. Another old lady. She nodded at me as the dog started in on its barking.

            “Your dog has a lot of energy,” I’d commented to her.

            “Yes,” she’d said, “it’s the breed.” And she told me a breed that I’d never heard of so now I forget. Some sort of Shephard mix.

            “What’s its name?” I’d asked, trying to humanize the beast.

            “Tasha.”

            “Oh, Tasha.” I had nodded, called out to the dog. “Hi Tasha!”

            WOOOOOFFFFFF WOOOOFFFF WOOOFFFFF! Tasha had replied.

            I had hurried away.

            Today, I know that the dog is lonely and bored. With no purpose. Like a lot of people. What do we do if we have no purpose?

            Bark a lot?

            Some people do. They just can’t shut up. But others retreat into themselves, holed up in their homes, binge watching Netflix.

            I feel sorry for these people. Yet, what can I do? If a dog needs something to do, then yes, the owner can help provide this. Take it on walks. Throw Frisbees for it to catch. Take it to a farm and let it herd some sheep.

            But people?

            This is harder. Of course, I think everyone’s purpose should just be whatever makes them happy, but this is a hard one to determine.

            Not everyone has swimming and writing and music like I do.

            I’m the lucky one.

            Or maybe luck has nothing to do with it.

            As I turn the corner onto 28^th street, I can still hear Tasha barking. The two old ladies pass me in the blue sedan. I watch as they turn left on Grant Street and head down toward 30^th Street. I wonder what they are doing today? They seem full of purpose and determination. I bet they have a full packed day with plenty to do. ...And very little barking!