Write On!

              " Where did you find him? Is he all right?" he asked me.
I quickly told him of my tribulations as Dog's adopted companion. I
left nothing out. I told of his sing along tendencies ruining my chances of
scoring a handout and his subsequent assistance in securing the twenty
dollars. I told him of my uncharacteristic action in purchasing food rather than
alcohol. I told him of the intolerable snoring that resulted in my being out on
the street at such an unholy hour. As I bitterly complained about Dog's
intrusion in my life, I was surprised to find myself scratching the ragged ear of
my antagonist and hearing my voice soften into a kind of affectionate grumble.
The old fellow replied to my tale with one of his own. It seemed he
was bringing produce to the nearby market six weeks ago when he was
involved in a minor accident on the freeway. He had not been hurt and the
truck was repairable. However, in all the excitement, Dog had disappeared. He
had looked for him every day as he traveled back and forth to his farm, but
had accepted that the dog was probably, by now, dead. Although he missed
the dog immensely, it was his grandson who mourned most grievously. His
grandson was a paraplegic and Dog ( or, as he called him, " Lucky") was his
constant companion and friend.
" Oh, how can I thank you for finding him and feeding him? It must be
fate or maybe a Higher Power that caused you to be here at this early hour
that I might meet up with you."
" Well," I answered, " I don't know if his snoring could be considered
intervention of a Higher Power but I'm glad you have your dog back. He was a
good companion but I don't really have the means to look after a pet. He'll be
much better off with you."
" Wait!" said the fellow. " You said ' companion'. That makes me think
of something. What do you do?"
With some embarrassment I admitted that, although I had once
worked as a physiotherapist in a local clinic, I was now no more than a bum
and an alcoholic.
" You're an answer to my prayers. Would you like a job? My grandson
needs a companion/ therapist. I can't afford to pay the prices they ask but, if
you would consider coming, I could offer you a small wage and room and
board. Once you are on your feet again, I realize you will want to move on and
return to the higher wages you can get here in town. But," he asked, with an
expression of hope, " would you please consider my offer in the interim?"
Well, the offer was not just the best but the only one I had received.
Could I do it? Would I really be able to make it in the real world again? Winter
was coming and I didn't know how I would survive. Panhandling barely kept
me alive and it, too, would fall off in the cold weather. There were many
reasons I should jump at this chance. Not allowing myself to think of all the
reasons I shouldn't, I accepted.
We picked up my guitar and the remainder of our groceries and
headed for the country. As we traveled north on increasingly narrower and
bumpier roads, Dog ( sorry, " Lucky") slept with his head on my knee. The rattle
of the old truck somewhat muffled his snores, but couldn't completely cover