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A Furry Fairy Tale
A reminder that kindness is its own reward
Yesterday an enormous, affable golden retriever showed up in my front lawn. My son says the dog followed him and his friends home from the basketball court a few blocks away. Oh, no, I thought, this is going to entail tracking down Pals-4-Paws, an organization affiliated with a nearby college that neuters feral cats and finds homes for strays. I'd already had a Do-Gooder adventure this week; I wasn't up for another one.
But it turns out the dog came bearing only good will. He was the kind of dog that always looks like he's smiling. He bounded from person to person and pinned each one of us in a bear – or should I say a retriever – hug. He looked like he came from a good home: He was clean, well-groomed, and had plenty of meat on his bones. He was so boisterously happy. Wherever he'd been, he'd been treated well. Yet for some reason he hung around the yard even after all the neighborhood teens went home and my son and I holed up in the house. After dinner and homework, he was still out there, stretched out on our front porch.
"Mom, give him something," my son insisted.
I filled a couple of plastic bowls with water and tiny pellets of Shih Tzu food. The retriever dove into the water like he'd been rescued from the desert. I don't know if he was really that thirsty or if that was just his usual enthusiasm.
In the morning he was still there, leaping up when I went out to get the paper. I brought him more water and he slurped it up again. Then he was gone.
But it turns out the dog came bearing only good will. He was the kind of dog that always looks like he's smiling. He bounded from person to person and pinned each one of us in a bear – or should I say a retriever – hug. He looked like he came from a good home: He was clean, well-groomed, and had plenty of meat on his bones. He was so boisterously happy. Wherever he'd been, he'd been treated well. Yet for some reason he hung around the yard even after all the neighborhood teens went home and my son and I holed up in the house. After dinner and homework, he was still out there, stretched out on our front porch.
"Mom, give him something," my son insisted.
I filled a couple of plastic bowls with water and tiny pellets of Shih Tzu food. The retriever dove into the water like he'd been rescued from the desert. I don't know if he was really that thirsty or if that was just his usual enthusiasm.
In the morning he was still there, leaping up when I went out to get the paper. I brought him more water and he slurped it up again. Then he was gone.
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