Sugar Seems Puzzled

Easter's over. Even Passover is over, with its eight long days of Matza eating (indigestible but delicious with butter and a dash of salt; sad confession: I'm still eating it, finishing the last crunchy box with a chaser of fiber). Spring has sprung undeniably and is proceeding posthaste into torrid summer.

Yet, like my protracted Matza-eating, the so-called Arab Spring continues. Sugar and I tune in the news (she loves voices on TV as I leave it on for her when I'm out, but please don't let her in on the secret) and we see yet ANOTHER war, another billionaire tin-pot potentate gunning down his own people. It used to be Tunisia, then Egypt, Bahrain, Yemen, Libya and now Syria. Sugar can't keep track anymore; it's both puzzling and dizzying. I say, "Sugar, pay attention if you want to be an educated pup, a canine conversant with current events." She lies down and yawns. "What's the woman yammering about now?" is the message I'm strongly inferring from her posture.

But I happen to be alone at home at the news hour, with no one but Sugar with whom to discuss things. This puts me at something of an intellectual disadvantage -- or, one could take the opposite point of view, the cheap one, and point out that it puts me at a huge advantage. Sugar can speak, but she needs me to interpret her remarks into English. I'm actually teaching her to speak. I say, "Sugar, speak!" She gazes at me quizzically at first, but then pipes up vociferously. "Aarf! Ruff! Ruff, ruff, growl...RUFF." "OK, that's enough," I tell her. OK is our word to knock it off. Anything I want knocked off. But we NEVER want people knocked off.

So we watch the poor Syrian men, marching defenseless to their random deaths by Syrian and Iranian snipers and even tanks, and we wonder: Why are we only helping Libyan citizens? Their thugocracy isn't nearly as vicious as the Syrian one. And I remark, "Sugar, you understand all this better than most of U.S. officialdom. You, Sugar, should be Secretary of State."

Sugar's no dope, though. She whines and puts her paws over her eyes. I don't get it. "What's wrong, Sugar?" I demand. "You Poodles are the geniuses of the canine world. You think you can't do better than the dummies of the human world?"

Sugar moans. Oh, I see; I hadn't thought of that before. It's not that Sugar doesn't know she's smart. She knows she can negotiate her way out of any situation in our household. It's not her brains holding her back. It's cultural differences. "Don't say that, Sugar!" I protest. "We're all equal. Why, PETA wants to pass a law making fish life akin to human life. Believe me, you will find your supporters. Don't you have the fire in the belly to be truly groundbreaking?"

Sugar squirms and crawls under the ottoman. A clue! Ottoman! Oh, now I perceive the problem. Vapid me. The trouble spots of the world, the places where Sugar would be called upon to intervene, are all in Muslim countries. Here Sugar interrupts me with a yelp. It had slipped my mind that according to Islam, dogs are considered unclean (but Poodles?) and are not kept as pets. This is true, though it doesn't sound PC to say so. But let's put the shoe on the other foot: doesn't that make Islam Doggist? Sugar -- oh and she's a white Jewish Poodle to boot -- would get kicked out (literally) by any Muslim country the State Department might send her to. And forget about China, where she COULD serve, but probably as an entree.

Well, this is a loss to the world. Because while our Administration with all its geniuses cannot seem to find a way to articulate a coherent policy, much less enact it; and while civilians are being killed in their thousands in these far-flung places; and practicing Christians are being decimated in both Muslim countries and China, Hubby and I haven't had one quarrel since Sugar's been on the scene here on Lawrence Ave.

We Americans seem to have lost the ability to think outside the box, and certainly the ability to speak up. By the way, where have all the anti-war protesters gone? The Cindy Sheehans and Michael Moores. Now that we're in three wars instead of only two, it's OK? Was it the roundness of the number of wars they objected to? But never mind them. As this is an activist puppy blog, I hereby announce Sugar's ability (if not willingness) to replace Hillary Clinton. Naturally she would need me as her spokesperson, but I assure you I would never mis-translate her. I urge you to get up off your haunches, humans and canines alike, and write to your nearest public official, or the Department of State, and demand the immediate appointment of Sugar the Toy Poodle as our muzzle to the rest of the world. She couldn't do any worse, could she?