On Tuesday, January 10, 2009, New Orleans’ woofers lined both sides of Perdido Street, 6 dogs deep, to witness a most unlikely event; the installation of Lucky Dog as Leader of the Pack.

Every dog, whether black, white, red, yellow, spotted or hairless, watched with bursting pride as Lucky Dog stood in front of City Hall for his Coronation, making him the highest ranking dog in New Orleans.  His rise to the top had not been without obstacles.  Heretofore, and as long as any dog could remember, Lucky’s ancestors had been treated with disdain, hostility, even contempt.  Wrongfully, they had often been regarded as inferior and unworthy, and were never even considered for the ‘Leader of the Pack’ position.  Many were unjustly abused.  Many, also, were slain.  It was unfair but it was real.

The disdain had become traditional.  Misunderstandings and untruths were passed from litter to litter.  Repeated acts of prejudice imprinted themselves onto the genetic code; ingrained hatred evolved, nearly impossible to erase.

Lucky was very special, however, blessed with a nose that could detect mood shifts as well as uncommon scents.   His velvet throat and silver tongue bayed to yearning ears.  Lucky had never led another dog (or cat) down any path but he was somehow able to convince most New Orleans canines to abandon their support for other mutts in the race and vote for him.  Lucky Dog promised hope against hope and change from all ‘bad’ things past.  His message was timely.  The street dogs were hungry.  Past leaders were rebuffed.  Lucky Dog was overwhelmingly chosen Number One; THE ONE.

With his crown in place, he uttered words and phrases from ‘on high’ designed to calm the skeptical dogs of dissent.  ‘We have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.’   ‘We must begin again the work of remaking New Orleans.’   Front page next day US Dog Today pictured Lucky Dog above the sprawling headline

LUCKY PLEDGES TO REMAKE NEW ORLEANS

‘We will not apologize for our way of life nor will we waver in its defense,’ said Lucky.   Really?  Really?

Lucky Dog continued on Coronation Day, ‘Let it be said by our puppies’ puppies that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and The Big Dog’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future litters.’

I cried tears of guilty relief.  The underdog had prevailed.  All past inequities, unfairness and injustices were neutralized.   The black dog had risen, no, had been elevated to the top.  The support was unprecedented.  The heartfelt unity was overpowering.  The tears fell and the cheers rose colorlessly together.  It was the moment for which the countryside had waited.  It was magnificent!

New Orleans streets were awash in celebration.  ‘You da Dawg?’ screams careened around City Hall.  Confetti showered down from the rooftops.  Shouts of ‘Greenies for all of dog kind!’.

For days, the dogs of elation wore their cherished garb.  Some donned little doggie caps declaring ‘We were there.’  Others wore red, white and blue collars proudly proclaiming ‘We saw Lucky Dog.’

New Orleans dogs had finally voted for equality.  The hope for this leader’s future was without reservation.

That was then.  This is now.  And these are the lamentations of a Yellow Dog.

What has happened in 12 short months?  Lucky has apologized to the rest of the world for who we are and how we came to be.  He has hung an errant stimulus (debt) over ours and our grand puppies heads.  The World Dog (and cat) Health Plan flies in the face of all who can read or have the spare time to try.  The Lucky Dog Administration now owns car companies & banks.  The Crap, Gas & Trade (CG&T) legislation and its responsible Phart Czar, will raise the cost of electricity in the name of global cooling.  Lucky and his Czars continue their misguided efforts to close Dogtanamo Bay (DTMO).   Guilty terrorist dogs from DTMO are now being given protection under the Constitution of the United States of America while we, the everyday dogs, pay the bills to insure security around the trial court venue.  Leading dogs from other supposed friendly packs now question Lucky’s judgement and strength of will as he waffles and dithers around on enormous decisions; whether to fight or turn tail and run from the usual gang of bully dogs.   The endless apologies for New Orleans dogs’ ways of life; the whimpering, bowing and scraping to dogs from Downtown, Uptown, Mid-City and the rest of Orleans Parish, have become boring and redundant, tedious and trite.  And the eternal blaming of past Leaders of the Pack; great dogs in heaven, Lucky, please stop!

Finally, for now, we will defend our turf for ONLY a designated time.  When that time arrives, win lose of draw, we’ll abandon the fight.  Good grief.

These are but a few of the reasons to mourn and grieve for opportunities lost, for the squandering of hard earned past successes achieved with spilled warm blood and splattered guts.  These are sorrowful milestones.  These are actions of fools and mongrels blinded by ideology, self-interests and the misuse of power.

We the dogs missed the words’ simplistic meanings.  Lucky said them to our face.  They were clearly spoken for us to hear, and written for us to read and understand.  Instead, the pack reacted in unbidden and involuntary trance, swept away by mindless hope and the desire for viable, meaningful change.

Where is the hope now?  The changes suck!

‘We must begin again the work of remaking New Orleans.’  How did we miss that ominous warning?

And thus these lamentations of a Yellow Dog. . . .

The Wisdom of Willie Bean