The difference between a yoga position and a fentanyl jag

Me and Big Lips Bruno got to the dog park first thing this morning, due to the late summer heat wave. If I don't get the big boy out in the cool of the early morning, he'll get no exercise at all. I noticed on our first lap that the homeless encampment that had sprouted up in the field next door was mostly gone. But a solitary figure 100 yards away caught my eye. Looked like a Muslim at prayer, but he wasn't facing Mecca, so I knew that couldn't be it. By our third or fourth lap he had shifted somewhat, into what looked like a possible yoga position. He maintained that for some time, but by our sixth lap he was on all fours. By the tenth lap he was standing up! Alas, one lap later he was down on his knees again. Five laps after that, he was standing bent over with his pants down. Next lap, back to square one but now bare-assed and tangled up in his trousers. That's around the time me and Bruno headed out. After 45 minutes of watching this lost soul try to stand up, I wonder if he ever succeeded?

The addicts next door

The farm next door has a little cottage on the property that the original farmer built for his son. The current owner of the place is a dentist who lives far away, and lets out both the farmhouse and the cottage.

A few years ago a new couple moved into the cottage. They pretty much kept to themselves. I respect that. It's why folks move to the country; to enjoy some peace and tranquillity.

They owned two beautiful German shepherds. In the early years those dogs and our dogs wore a trail into the hayfield chasing each other back and forth across the quarter mile or so that separates us.

But things changed. The woman left. Police were involved. Things went downhill. The dude hasn't cut his lawn the last two summers.

There's a new woman, but we seldom see her. We seldom see the dogs. They'll be out for 18 hours straight, and then we don't see them for days at a time. They are seriously neglected, and I feel sorry for them.

Word is, it's fentanyl. Makes sense. You're off on a trip and who cares if the dogs shit in the house?

I always had a pretty loose attitude towards drugs in general, but what I'm seeing here gives me pause. These people have more or less ceased to function in society, save whatever social interactions are required to get more drugs. The dentist is trying to get them out because they can't pay rent. But they can afford to be completely messed up on drugs for days at a time.

We know how this ends. I just worry for the dogs.