Just now on my way home from a meeting, I passed a young woman on the side of the road with two dogs. One was lying on the ground convulsing, the other standing protectively to the side. She was sobbing. I stopped the car and asked if I could help her. "No it's ok," she said. "My dad's coming." So I left and by the time I drove past the dog had stopped moving altogether.
I don't know what had happened, except that the dog didn't appear to have been struck by a vehicle. Maybe the dog was old and already in ill health, or maybe he had a sudden seizure. In any case, it's a terrible thing to see someone cry while her animal suffers in a cold puddle in the street. As if I weren't sad enough about today, this filled me with sadness. And what an awful thing for her to experience. Maybe I should have stayed and tried to comfort her while we waited. Maybe that would have made her feel worse. I don't know.
But it's already a gray, gloomy drizzly day, literally and metaphorically. I couldn't stomach listening to the entire inaugural speech of the newly installed POTUS, but I have heard clips on the news. He stands for authority more than rights. We have reason to be angry, we have reason to be terrified, and we have reason to protest.
We'll be downtown in our home city tomorrow, the four of us, in the gloom and drizzle, marching for the rights and safety and democracy of all. Wearing pink hats and yelling in the street won't change anything, but it's still important as a gesture.
We won't take this sitting down. No, sir.