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.
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