On Dogs, Democracy, and Hope

It's been a while since I've had the chance to write. Since my last piece, we got a dog. His name is Edger Allen Poe, it’s what they called him at the shelter, and what he answers to. It's very fitting– his 50lb Pointer-mix body is strong, and black as the raven’s. I like to call him “Edgrr!”
I’ve spent a lot of time training Edgrr. Time I should be dedicating to writing and researching has been distracted by the delights of his wagging tail. Just when I think his training is pretty solid, he breaks all the rules. He's a teenager in doggy years (1.5 years old in human years), and has all of the rebellion to go with it.
The start-stop success and failure of his training feels like it's been a bit of a theme for me lately. From career opportunities to writing, it seems there are fits and starts that are wildly successful, but then all that success hits a void, as if it were never there in the first place.
The Reflective Nature of December
It's December, and with this month comes the inevitable reflection on the past year and the hope for the upcoming one. For me, it also means we've just passed my birthday, so the self-reflection happens twice—first with my birthday's personal momentum and then with the global charge of everyone else reflecting and calling for New Year's affirmations and resolutions.
Like my dog learning his way around our lives and his new home, I feel like my first round of birthday self-reflection was more confident than this next round. It’s strange that it worked out this way, right? You’d think it would be the opposite—the first dusting off of a year gone by would be more tentative and apprehensive. But no, the newness of the task propelled me into deeper and, frankly, more hopeful thoughts. It’s this second time around that leaves me feeling like we’ve already done this—why are we here again, and where’s my treat?
This coming year feels really frightening. I am trying not to panic, but I can’t help but worry about upcoming geopolitics, deportations, possible massive starvation, and authoritarianism.
I think that's it.
My first round of self-reflection and resolution was deeply personal—hopeful, and completely within my control.
New Year's resolutions are a global phenomenon, and thus, my thoughts turn outward. I have no control and am sitting here with everyone else, waiting for whatever is going to happen to finally hit. We're in the deep bracing-breath phase.
Lessons from Thought Leaders
After the election, I picked up Timothy Snyder’s On Tyranny and Angela Davis’s Freedom is a Constant Struggle. As I write and reflect now, both works are clamoring in my mind and urging me to bring them into this post.
Snyder's On Tyranny offers a sobering reminder of the fragility of democracy and the importance of individual action. His lessons—such as "Do not obey in advance" and "Defend institutions"—resonate deeply in our current political climate.
Davis's Freedom is a Constant Struggle complements this perspective by emphasizing the interconnectedness of our struggles for justice and freedom. Her work reminds me that personal growth and societal progress are intertwined, much like my dog's training journey parallels my own.
In light of these readings, I'm struck by how my personal challenges—the fits and starts of success, the frustrations of training a teenage dog—mirror larger societal issues. Just as I must remain patient and consistent with my dog's training, we must also persist in our efforts to protect and nurture democracy.
Snyder's warning to "be calm when the unthinkable arrives" feels particularly relevant as we face an uncertain future. It's a reminder that panic can be counterproductive; maintaining composure in the face of challenges is crucial.
As I look toward the coming year, I'm trying to balance my personal goals with a renewed commitment to civic engagement. Davis's emphasis on collective action inspires me to think beyond individual resolutions and consider how I can contribute to broader movements for justice and equality. I’ve joined some local political action groups and taken a more active role in our local Board of Education. I’m eager to discover my new(ish) community and channel my energy locally as a starting point for global change.
Embracing Courage and Persistence
Training a dog requires consistent rules and boundaries. But what happens when the rules themselves begin to erode? Snyder warns us about the normalization of the unthinkable – how authoritarianism creeps in through small surrenders. I see it in my neighborhood: the quiet disappearance of certain families, the new cameras on street corners, the way some people have stopped meeting my eyes.
Sometimes Edgrr fails his 'leave it' command – lunging for a treat I place on the floor. We always try again. But I wonder: when the time comes, will I be as persistent in resisting larger temptations? The comfort of looking away, of pretending everything is normal?
Watching Edgrr, I'm struck by his pure-hearted approach to learning. He's always eager, always trying—even when he fails. His whole body vibrates with the desire to understand, to be part of something larger than himself. When we're on a hike, bounding through the trails or playing at the dog park, his joy is unrestrained.
Over the past year and even more so with this election, I recognize how jaded I’ve been feeling. Instead, Edgrr embodies the hope I want to cultivate in myself. He is obedient not out of fear, but out of a genuine desire to connect, to be part of our family, to do well. His love is unconditional, and his spirit is resilient. When training gets tough, he gets frustrated, he pauses for a treat but he doesn't give up—he adjusts, learns, and tries again.
As we enter this new year, I'm committed to approaching our complex world with Edgrr's spirit: loving, persistent, eager to learn, and unafraid to run toward connection. Our societal challenges require the same approach – patience, consistency, and an unwavering belief in progress.
Snyder urges us to "be as courageous as you can," and I'm trying to embody that courage in both my personal and civic life.
The path forward isn't about perfection but about showing up, being active, and creating change. It's about commitment in the face of adversity, about trying and trying and trying to get it right. Like Edgrr learning a new command, we must face our challenges with unwavering loyalty to our communities, our values, our shared humanity.
We aren't training for obedience. We're training for survival, for resistance, for a future where freedom isn't just a constant struggle, but a reality we've fought to achieve. The storm may be coming, but we're not alone. We have each other, and the lessons learned from those who've faced darkness before.
Stay vigilant. Stay connected. And above all, keep wagging your tail in the face of uncertainty. We might just create the change we want to see, one persistent attempt at a time.

[Article image prompt: An illustration of a black pointer-mix dog with a sleek, raven-like coat stands alert on a hiking trail at sunrise. The trail winds through autumn trees, with golden light filtering through branches. The dog's posture shows both attention and joy - ears perked, tail mid-wag, body ready for action. In the background, a small town nestles in a valley, suggesting the intersection of wilderness and community. The lighting creates a hopeful atmosphere while maintaining some shadows, symbolizing both optimism and uncertainty.]