If It Were A Real News Station Instead of Fox, I Would Have Worried

Mr Fearful Dog, A.K.A. Rack, our faithful black and white Mc Nab Dog has an oddball habit.

Truth be told, he’s got a lot of oddball habits.  Some of them were due to my own quirks.  I will own those.

Going through my daily routine, I generally have him come in and visit.   I expect to see him wander in, park next to my low-slung Poang chair and gently invite me to pay attention to him by standing next to the right arm.  He’s grown since April from being lower than the arm to being about 6 inches taller than the arm, so now I end up with a furry arm rest.

That fur not being my own, I stop what I’m doing and pay attention to him.  After all, I can always go back to whatever I was up to but a dog won’t be there forever.

Most mornings, Rack will entertain himself on his mat, toss his toys around, come over and invite my attention.  You know, all normal dog stuff.  Since I’m generally up at Stupid O’Clock, I’m generally also up before you are.   The city is as quiet as a city ever gets.  At Stupid O’Clock plus 15 minutes, I’ve been outside walking around with him and the only things you hear are the traffic on the interstate, three miles away, and the normal “House Noises”.  Here it’s irrigation pumps and air conditioning compressors.

Before sunrise, your town would sound different as well, more peaceful.  This is the time of day when you can’t hear the neighbor snore it’s because their A/C kicked in to cool them down.   Yes, it’s November, yes, we have A/C on, don’t you?

In my living room that particular morning after sunrise, I had on a Trance Internet Radio station playing some “Uplifting Trance” music to keep the energy going.   That doesn’t always work because that was what I used to skate to, so I end up getting a runners high while sitting in the chair.  It does tend to mask the wakening city soundscape which helps me go through my own nonsensical routine.

Then the dog left.

Rack simply dropped his toys, stood up, and marched out of the room.   I heard the door of the crate rattle followed by the thump of paws and elbows hitting the bottom of the crate.  Shaking my head and thinking that the silly furball heard a trash truck somewhere in Miami, 40 miles away, I went back to what I was doing.

Or rather I tried to.

The drone wasn’t all that noticeable at first.  When the windows on the house started to rattle, I thought that’s odd.  I realized it was also obnoxiously loud as there was a News Helicopter overhead.  Or rather since it was Miami’s Channel 7, it was a distant approximation of something that was once a news organization.  Since it is also the local Fox Affiliate, I wasn’t terribly concerned.  Not a “real” news copter, nothing to worry about since there were no “real” news copters about joining it.

I walked out to the yard and saw this blue and red beast doing lazy circles over the quirky little island.  Somewhere over near Five Points, the copter circled like a noisy buzzard that was watching over a dead carcass that resembled a journalist’s career.

Complete in my security that there wasn’t anything really important to worry about, I pulled some weeds before getting bored by it all and returning to my routine.  Rack was safe inside his giant plastic crate that takes up most of the free room in my master bedroom, and I laughed at the “French Farce” aspect of ‘”News” Corp’ being in the neighborhood.

It would have been more entertaining if the Goodyear Blimp had returned.  At least Rack doesn’t seem to mind that silver cigar heading by on its way North to the airpark in Pompano Beach.

So when things get overwhelming, it’s nice to have a plastic box to hide from it all.  Even if it isn’t real news, it can be scary to a furry little guy.

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