A nearby corner lot is in the process of being de-landscaped, the removal of trees and shrubbery by outside contractors. Through the grapevine, I hear that the couple who owned the property until way earlier in the year, have divorced--not that I ever did see them or know their identities, although I knew a little bit about him through another distinct grapevine. Gradually the house is becoming more visible from the end of my driveway. I'm crossing my fingers, hoping that the new owners will find happiness there. It's a strange house in need of high positive energy.
Every Sunday morning the distinct sounds of their beagle barking for attention, I knew. Always in my head, I'd say, "PLEASE would someone take the dog for a walk? What's WRONG over there?" That entire refrain went on and on for a few years.
Yes, they divorced. Where's the dog? It turns out, the neighbor across and up the street became involved because of the beagle. -- Could that dog ever be homeless? Even from a distance, I was in love with him, the sheer enthusiasm shown by his upright tail projecting his personality.--Without skipping a beat, Mary took in the dog, except that her friends fell in love with him; now he lives elsewhere. In the end, a happy ending for all concerned, even for Mary who's never at home because not only is she always working but she already owns a dog and cat who live inside all day, and those two only have the company of contractors intermittently.-- Yes, this is the life in the foothills in the early part of the 21st century.
No comments:
Post a Comment