YES, GRIEVE FOR RBG.
BUT fOCUS: THERE’S
AN ELECTION IN 43 DAYS

The timing, of course, is as awful as the loss of a person who has inspired generations, of people, especially women. And just in time to mess with the election.
“You want to know what else time it is?” Mr. O asked me.
"Not really," I said, prepared for a smart-aleck reply.
"It's time to move on."
“Excuse me?” I replied as my friend, the politically astute opossum, and I rendezvoused in the backyard for our regular after-dinner discussion of the latest events. "Aren't you being a bit lunkheaded here?"
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded," Mr. O said. “But we need to stay on track and not let one setback – and I know that the loss of Notorious RBG is a lot more devastating than that word suggests. However, these next 43 days are what we’ve been waiting for the last four years, and it’s imperative we keep going and more.
“But Trump is going to get another conservative justice on the Supreme Court, which may indeed become 'His' court, jumping immediately into election disputes and bending the law in Trump's favor if the vote is close – to say nothing of what happens to Obamacare, climate change, Trump’s abuses of power, Russia, Russia, Russia, etc., etc.”
"FOCUS, PHOEBE,“ Mr. O said, “Focus, focus, focus. This is the best chance to get rid of Donald Trump; and in that sense, this is the most promising, most exciting, most exhilarating time of our lives.”
I’d forgotten with whom I’ve been hobnobbing this past summer – the optopossumistic opossum, a rare, but refreshingly upbeat subspecies, known to political scientists as Rosius-colorred-glasseus-half-fulum.
Mr. O, in other words, believes that Democratic and other progressive forces are going to send Joe Biden to the White House, and relocate Donald Trump to Mar a Lago, where he’ll live out his life measuring rising sea levels.
“Well,” I said, “If I can’t grieve for Ruth, or feel down in the dumps or plan to leave the country, what do you suggest?”
With that, Mr. O pulled a sheet of paper out of his pouch, which surprised me, because I thought only female opossums had those for their newborns, which added a new element of mystery to the true nature of my companion, who showed up one day atop a fence post in our backyard.
It read:
HAVE YOU:
1. Applied PROMPTLY for your mail ballot?
Answer: No. And yes. Since I’m a dog, I can’t vote, and I didn’t apply. But I did get the Humans in our house to fill out heir applications, and I rode with them yesterday to make sure they mailed them.
2. Put up a Biden for President sign on your front lawn?
Answer: Yes.Today, I printed out big letters – B I D E N – and Scotch-taped them (don't ask how a dog does these things) to individual window panes on the front sun porch, where I hang out when I’m not talking to you. And notice our house is #20 on our street, so I didn't have to print out "2020" for the sign. Coincidence? Or omen?
3. Sent money to Biden and Democratic Senate candidates?
Answer: Spoke to the Humans; they are disgraceful penny-pinchers, but I think they might part with some cash if for no other reason than to stop me from barking.
4. Been in contact with voters in “battleground” states?
Answer: A canine friend of mine, "Tatchka," a recent immigrant from Sarajevo, says his Humans recommend a group called "Swing Left," which has a lot of smart and well thought out ways to connect with voters, like letter-writing and sending targeted campaign contributions to candidates who can retake the Senate and state legislatures. Their website is: https://swingleft.org/
5. Stayed mad? Stayed Scared? Stayed in the game?
Answer: Just watch us.