Last night it clouded up enough that it was bearable to sit out on the front steps and kibitz with my neighbor. First time in over a month and it was very nice.
While we were there a man passed by, walking his slow-moving dog. We all exchanged hellos and he stopped for a moment. The dog, which looked like brindle greyhound, turned out to be a whippet and something mix. His name was Pete and he was no longer speedy because he’s in his teens. He was a rescue and the man said they’ve been the best of buddies since he scooped him up at the Humane Society when the dog was not much older than a puppy.
When I first moved into Reading a million years ago there was a fresh produce market just a few blocks from my house. It always had the best selection and when it up and vanished one day without any explanation I missed it.
As we were chatting it came out that this gentleman used to be the owner of the produce store. He had to give it up when he had complications from surgery for a brain tumor. He ended up paralyzed, blind, mute and on a ventilator for months. It took time but he’s come back completely even though his doctors were preparing him to be wheelchair bound. He has a full life complete with entirely new career and a very cool dog and is doing just fine.
I’d always wondered what happened that the market closed. And now I know.