After dinner yesterday, Hania and I took a walk around the neighborhood, which was pretty quiet. Though we did hear, behind some fences, the television commentary backed by the steady, telltale roar of a football game.
The park up along the New River was a different story. Two young men stood looking into the water with fishing poles, and several people formed a circle in the grass, watching the interaction of two schnauzers, one Pomeranian, and one mutt.
A man in a uniform came walking towards the group. It is usually never a good sign when a man in a uniform comes walking towards you, and this was no exception. He was a park ranger and he informed everyone that the only dogs allowed in parks in Fort Lauderdale are service dogs. This struck everyone as absurd, but, without complaint, everyone dutifully drifted away. A pleasant meeting of strangers, and strangers' dogs - a gathering that did nothing but bring some life into an otherwise dull afternoon - was broken up.
Hania asked the ranger where she could go to protest this rule. He was sympathetic, being the owner of an English bulldog. As we walked away from the park, now peopled only by fishermen, Hania said: "It's no wonder people hate government."
