Oh, The Humanity

Every now and again, something happens that makes you think that maybe the human race isn't so bad after all. Sometimes it's some colossal event which reshapes your entire existence, and other times it's just a small thing that you might not even notice until long after it is over. Whatever form it takes, your whole world view is altered, even if only a little. Suddenly, that whole "fellowship of man", "goodwill to all" thing makes a lot of sense. Your heart feels a little lighter at that moment, doesn't it? You finally feel as though you are a small part of some large thing that's actually worth being a member of. Everything looks a little brighter, and tomorrow is just a day away, as the song says. And then some ambassador of the great goodwill human fellowship tries to kick you in the proverbial teeth...
I was not having the best of days when the fire occurred. It was only an extremely minor fire, property damage was minimal, no lives lost, no animals were harmed in the filming of this afternoon. Due to the irritatingly flammable nature of gasoline vapors, said minor fire (which would have been just about right for the roasting of marshmallows were it not for the fumes) was reluctant to be extinguished. So I attempt to cover the burning material with dirt, the theory being that if I buried it, I wouldn't have to see it, and could comfortably pretend it didn't happen. No, obviously I was trying to deprive it of oxygen. I don't have to tell you that, with the benefit of combustible petroleum products, my fire only chuckled merrily at my attempts to kill it, and even made a light-hearted go at burning the dirt, just to make me look foolish. Eventually, with the aid of a belated fire extinguisher, all was made well. So now I'm left with the charred remains of my loyal--if somewhat cantankerous--lawnmower. As I poke despondently at some of the less identifiable bits, a gentleman--I assume a guest of a neighbor--strides over, equipped with a smallish dog and that hideously smug grin common to all those who have arrived at the scene of important work just in time to fail to be required to assist with any of it. All the same, he did make a mighty effort at carrying out the last and most important task associated with any such event, namely pacing about wearing a furiously thoughtful expression and giving the illusion of possessing some sort of applicable knowledge which might rectify the situation. And I was thankful for the help, because, on a job of this magnitude, it would take one man, even one of my skill and experience, a weekend's solid work to get the thing glowered at properly. Obviously feeling that the extent of his skill had been reached, my nameless acquaintance made his leave. As I watched him go, I couldn't help feeling pretty good about everything in general. I mean, sure, he hadn't managed, strictly speaking, actually to accomplish anything of any real tangible benefit. But at least he'd made a token effort. My estimation of him was quite high then, and I even, in a brief flash of intense idealism (or was it neurological instability?), began to believe that maybe, just maybe, the human race as a whole was at least marginally worth the difficulties and discomforts entailed in not succumbing to the terribly powerful urge one feels on a daily basis to conduct interpersonal relations via a cattle prod.
Then I looked around. There, at my feet, was the smallish dog, looking up at me in that particular manner that conveys the age-old universal message of blissful ignorance. Great, fine, so I shooed the beast away and went back to work. Not more than a few minutes later, I notice that the animal is still hanging about. Long story short, all my numerous endeavors at canine removal were emphatically unsuccessful. Upon closer observation, I realized, with disgust, that the pitiful creature has, in all likelihood, been terribly mistreated in the past. I thought at length, and I've decided that the man, who I have not, I remind you, ever seen before, decided to rid himself of one unwanted pet. The dog, judging from his behavior, could not be happier with that arrangement. And here I stand, with a singed and now ever so slightly misshapen lawn tractor, plus one small dog. For all I know, it might still be standing around somewhere outside, waiting for me to come and do something about it.
I have no doubt whatsoever that I will never again set eyes upon the enigmatic stranger.
People really make you think, sometimes.
Meanwhile, my grass is laughing at me...