I recently read Eugene Field’s poem about a dog and a
cat that got into a terrible spat. All through the night angry sounds filled the
room and bits of gingham and calico flew furiously. Come morning, the two antagonists were nowhere
to be found, giving rise to the suspicion that they ate each other up. Delightful children’s entertainment? Or is it a forecast of things to come in today’s
body politic?
Do we see a parallel of this poem with the battle between
presidential candidates Donald Trump and Dr. Ben Carson? Could their fight, played out heavily on the
media, end with their devouring each other?
Who knows? It’s like
our dog Petey says, “politics is ruff.”
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