Today there was a lady on the 71A with her dog. I got on the bus and saw a little old lady in the front seats, the ones for passengers with special needs. She had a dog on her lap. There are often people with seeing eye dogs or every now and then someone with a tiny dog in a purse, so this didn't seem odd.
The dog sat with her and she petted it and even pulled out a dog brush and began to groom it a bit. Each time a new passenger would sit next to her, I'd hear the same story: "Oh, this is my collie. I named her Lassie. I have lots of dogs. At home I have a beagle and even a lab." She talked about grooming her pets, how they are the light of her life in her old age. It was very sweet. I hoped to some day love a pet like that again. But I didn't get involved in the conversation.
I was engaged in my people watching. There was a cute toddler with braids in front of me. I was sticking my tongue out at her and not staring too closely at the dog lady. It was only when I got up to leave the bus that I looked very closely at her and her pet.
There, sitting on her lap, representative of her brood of canines, was a stuffed dog. A toy animal. Like a pound puppy, but a little more life-like. Plastic yellow eyes and all.
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2 comments:
Oh my god... that's totally awesome. I can picture me doing that when I'm old! :)
That is creepy, sad, and touching, all at the same time. I guessed when you told her overheard story what the twist was, but dismissed it b/c it sounded too predictable.
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