Billy’s
been a busy guy ever since he became the official town dog here.
Sally had been the town dog until she passed away on Doc’s porch,
and then Billy’s owner died just two weeks after that, so it was
something of a natural progression. Sometimes offices are filled
without an election.
The high school wood shop boys built Billy a dog house next to the
school crossing, but Billy preferred Aunt Ada’s couch in the cold
months and a nice dog depression under an oak tree when it’s warm.
Billy was making the rounds this morning. He had snacks at the Gates
of Heaven Chinese café (back door, of course) and the Mule Barn
truck stop, and conned a granola bar out of some kids just leaving
the convenience store. Then he headed down the main street, turned
right at the drug store, and ended up on the porch of The Rest of
Your Life Retirement Home. A brief scratching and whining gave him
access, and he cruised around, being petted and loved, until he
found Pop Walker.
Pop can remember what happened in World War II right down to the
mess hall menu, but he has a tough time with names and whether he’s
had breakfast today or not.
“Uh …?” Pop looked at the lady in the nurse’s uniform.
“I’m Jean, Pop.” [to top of second
column] |
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“Oh sure … Jean, okay if I go
outside with the dog?”
“Only in the back yard, Pop. Okay?”
He grinned. “Okay.”
Pop and Billy walked around back there for a while, and Pop found a
stick and threw it for Billy a few times. Then they went to a bench
in the shade and Billy laid his head on Pop’s knee and got some free
ear rumples.
Pop looked down at the dog.
“I’m glad you came over today … Billy,” Pop said.
Pop remembers World War II, also.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Help change
a life, or even save one.
https://support.woundedwarriorproject.org
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