We saw him running, head down, zig zagging back and forth from yard to yard. House to house.That lost dog dance that occurs when an animal searches for familiarity. A scent. A trail. A dog lover recognizes this immediately. I pull over and my friend and I corner him. He’s a sweet, black male with a gray muzzle, who gladly allows my friend to hug him around the chest, to contain him, while I search for a collar and a leash. We take him back to my house and release him in my fenced yard. Then we start the search. We make flyers, call shelters, call vets. We are committed to assisting this helpless creature. Eventually, we found a home for this sweet boy, who I named, Dudley, but it took a village. Well, a kennel owner, a church group and two determined dog lovers.
This occurred before you came into my life, Dwight. Maybe all the times you have been “rescued” after following your nose and running away from here, is just Karma for my efforts with Dudley.
Yesterday, I had an encounter that gave me pause. There was a young man ahead of me in the checkout at the grocery store. He had a lost look in his eyes. His clothes were baggy and dirty. His stretched out t-shirt revealed sunburned shoulders and a blistered, peeling neck. He wore flip flops and his toes were caked with mud. He smelled as dirty as he looked. He wasn’t zig zagging or dancing. He was standing there with his bag of grapes, 2 peaches and a candy bar. He handed the cashier a gift card and a twenty dollar bill. Looking hopeful, he asked her to check the balance on the gift card. She told him she wasn’t sure how to do that. The young man’s gaze dropped to the twenty as he reached out to hand it to her.
I interrupted, “I’ll pay for his.” He looked up, once again hopeful. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She rang him up. He thanked me again as he left. A lost young man. Probably in his early 20’s. What’s his story? Why didn’t I chase after him, put my arms around his chest and keep him secure, until he was found again. I didn’t make “Lost Boy” signs or call around to try and help him. All I did was pay $6.21 for a bag of grapes, 2 peaches and a candy bar. Shame on me. I hope my simple gesture made as much of an impact on him as his kind face made on me.
All who wander are not lost. You’ve taught me that, Dwight. But, I think we could all use a little help sometimes, to find our way.
dear-dwight 