Niagara Gazette — Dear Mainland Searchers — One warm Sunday afternoon a dog wandered into our backyard. We were expecting company so the gate was open and in he came, a black and tan blend of every breed registered at Westminster, collared and tagged but otherwise unidentified. He was not one of that cohort of canines that tow their owners past our garage most nights and for all his friendliness, he looked hopelessly lost.
So what do you do on an afternoon when you’d rather be chillin’, toss a strange dog into the back seat and go door to door asking, “Is this yours?”
So here’s what we did. We tied him to a long rope, attached it to the shadiest tree on our front lawn and poured him a big bowl of water. Surely, surely, somebody would come looking for this nice, disoriented boy.
Hardly a half-hour had passed when there was a tap on the gate and a family newly arrived from the Mainland suffused us in thanks for harboring their temporary vagrant. They’d just moved in, about a half-mile away, actually, and the dog had run off. Happy beyond words, they scolded him lovingly and took him away. We all poured ourselves another cooler and took comfort at a job well done
A half-hour later there was another tap at the gate:
“He’s run off again. Have you seen him?”
We presume it ended well and haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since.
But we did acquire a ball last windy Wednesday.
Blew right into the yard, past the tree where we had secured the confused pooch.
This posed a different dilemma, as it would be rather hard to secure it to vegetation. Based on the wind direction, we speculate it came from the northwest, but otherwise, we’re clueless. We’ll probably run a classified ad, but if you know anyone over here who lost a ball recently, have ‘em describe it and it’s theirs.
Then there’s the matter of the red geranium.
It hasn’t been a great year for our potted and hanging plants, too many of which have devolved into a symphony in brown. The geranium was particularly discouraging and finally we yielded to the inevitable and set it out by the curb for garbage day.
Next night we got a big rain and from across the street Beverly observed, “Hey, your geranium has revived.” Sure enough, it was blooming as never before, but before Doug could get out to retrieve it, it was gone, and not to the trashmen, who were a day behind because of the holiday, but to some unknown passer-by. Good. We hope the curb cruiser enjoys it. Seriously.
It’s been a come-and-go summer.
Come visit. We’ll have a ball.
To contactact Polly and Doug, email firstname.lastname@example.org