My niece Julie is a dog rescuer. She’s other stuff too but for this piece I want you to know her as a dog rescuer.
Yesterday she told me about her visit with Henry, a dog that she had given to a lovely woman who’s life had been improved greatly by adding Henry to her family. I was there for that. In fact I drove Henry to his new home. He was just a ball of joy. He was happy from the moment he saw his new owner.
And Julie couldn’t stop raving about Henry. “Nothing has changed. He is still embracing every moment with delight” She paused “That’s why I do this.”
Naturally I was happy to hear it. In the short time I knew Henry I too fell in love with him. Who wouldn’t?
Ya just can’t wipe that grin off his face.
But then I started to think about that dog Julie gave me.
No one would use the word “fun” and “Ray” in the same sentence. And “joy”? Uh uh.
If I were to describe Ray in one word it would be “pissed off”.(I know, I know 2 words)
He came to me from the pound on death row. Anything SHOULD have been an improvement.
He walked into the house, went straight to the bedroom, jumped on the bed, scratched the covers away, got under them and caught forty winks.
No “Nice digs” or “I see you have a terrace. That’s lovely of you”. Nuthin’.
In the year and a half I have him I’ve posted plenty of pictures. I always try to put a good light on it. For example;
Here he is romping on the terrace.
Now he’s happily suggesting that we don’t make a left.
This is his joyful wake up face.
And he couldn’t be happier preparing for his bar mitzvah.
Then I started thinking.
Last week my neighbor invited me to come for a drink on Jan.9 to celebrate the birthday of someone in her family.I wasn’t listening so I don’t remember who. I said “sure” even though I had no intention of going.
So yesterday, Jan. 9th, I get in the elevator with my neighbor’s daughter and her husband, a french guy. I’ve been introduced to him quite a few times but I don’t remember his name. It’s probably Pierre.
The daughter says “Are you coming to the party tonight?”
“Just for a drink?”
” Whose birthday is it? Your brother’s”
So Pierre pipes in “No it’s mine”.
“Oh well happy birthday. I’d come over but I hate talking to strangers. There’ll be strangers there right?”
“I guess so” The daughter laughs. She’s known me for her whole life.
Actually now that I think of it. Ray and I just might be a match made in heaven.