Codger’s Column: Thank Dog

Codger and Crone hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in two weeks, tending to Cur II’s uncooperative recovery from ACL surgery. The doctor’s orders were clear; the big poodle must not be allowed to lick the area of the surgical wound lest infection bloom, and he must stay off his left hind leg lest the implant not set properly.

Cur II, licker and jumper, would have none of that. So Codger and Crone took turns keeping him down and away from that rear leg.

All three of them became cranky and tired, especially Crone, who was in the midst of mounting a Friends of Music concert at the Presbyterian Church. The vigil wasn’t all that successful either. Cur II would stand up and march to the door, demanding a bathroom break.

He refused to pee or poop on a leash. Set free he would race to a lower corner of the yard, favoring the rear left leg but occasionally coming down on it as he galloped back up the hill. A sedative helped, but not entirely.

As the time came for the surgeon’s two-week post-op visit, Codger and Crone cringed in anticipation of their well-deserved dressing-down. They were failing their proud, willful, affectionate Goodboy.

They were not comforted by the sliver of a silver lining, their sleepless minds’ blessed inability to fully comprehend what was happening in the depths of Shelter Island politics.

Now, that was a dogsend.

For Codger, it also seemed like a series of hallucinations. Had he dreamt that one of his favorite politicians had been convicted of a felony? Or that a Republican had been accused of gathering signatures for a Democrat?

Forget about the battle over supervision of the wetlands or the various controversies over wastewater. They were submerged in statistics and opinions simply too dense for Codger’s addled brain. 

Meanwhile, Codger’s hope for the future, a new Board of Ethics, after presenting its thoughtful and promising revised code, would have to wait for a public hearing. It was needed right now.

Trying to make sense of all this while ordering Cur II to sit down and stop staring at his hind quarters was impossible. Codger suffered half-century-old flashbacks of struggling to stay awake during guard duty and of driving through the night to rock colicky babies to sleep.              

There were just too many questions to answer. If the Democrats thought it was OK for Albert Dickson to run for Town Board as a convicted felon six years ago when he was the party’s candidate, why not now? Because he was running as an insurgent against the Gerry Siller administration? Back then, had Democratic Chair Heather Reylek thought no one would notice, or that it was legal?

Had she accepted Dickson’s story, as Codger does, of him taking the blame as project manager at a South Carolina building after an Atlanta subcontractor made a false statement concerning asbestos compliance? Dickson was working for the New York firm that had the overall federal contract.

And where was the evidence in Republican leader Gary Blados’ accusation of election fraud against Patrick Clifford, who claims to have only alerted neighbors that his friend Gordon Gooding was running in the primary for supervisor, never actually soliciting signatures?

Codger was kept from thinking about such murky topics by his mounting failure to protect Cur II’s leg and the justified scolding from the surgeon. The shame of it!

Is it because Gooding and Dickson are environmentalists and opponents of monstrous mansions that Supervisor Siller reversed course and decided to run again?

Codger thought it noble of Siller to return so he might finally accomplish something. But what? Was his secret master plan to develop the Center, that water-starved eyesore that looks like the Death Valley strip mall? Who is going to be the big project’s architect, engineer, contractor, lawyer? Where’s Dan Calabro in this?

Will you please sit down, Cur II.

And what about Republican Amber Brach-Williams? This was supposed to be her time. If Siller wins the primary against Gooding, will he quit and let his Deputy Supervisor and loyal finance chief take her promised spot? Be easier to knock Gooding off now.

Ultimately there was no more hiding from all the questions. At the veterinary hospital, Codger and Crone invisibly held hands as the surgeon examined Cur II then took him for a walk. What was her expression behind her mask?

“Has he been putting weight on that leg?” she asked.

Codger and Crone winced, nodded.

“Good,” said the surgeon. “It’s healing.”

Codger and Crone nearly cried with surprise and relief. There would be further vigilance, another visit for x-rays in eight weeks. But the pressure was off.

They were nearly home before one of them said, “So, what about the election?”