Even A Dog Can Shake Hands

Coming home yesterday after detouring to pick up a pair of prescriptions in Lisbon (Connecticut) which isn't all that far from Versailles (also in Connecticut) which is around the corner from Berlin (I'll let you guess; bingo!) as I've been meaning to get these two refilled for at least a week. My problem is, maybe like you for the same reason, the only time I ever think about ordering is when I'm taking the medication to realize 'Yipes! It's getting low! I should really order more now!' (Tip: watching me yell 'Yipes!' in my pajamas in my kitchen is neither an audio nor visual treat. You can ask my wife.)

I wasn't more than five minutes out of the store's parking lot on Route 12 as it winds around the Round Hill section (district? village? I'm not sure but the people who live there are, I'm positive) in a four car parade-technically three cars, a Toyota, a large Cadillac, me, and a truck, a silver Dodge Ram with the giant wheels and beefed-up suspension that I always think means you need a rope ladder to get in and out of the truck. I never wonder anymore why anyone does this because I'm afraid someone will tell me and then what would keep me awake at night? The college football play-offs? Not.

Before you go down a (slow) incline that traces a path alongside the railroad line that I've never seen a train on in the eighteen years I've been passing it, right along the banks of one or the other, or perhaps the third, river in this area (unless it's one of the brooks that feeds the river), there's a very nice in shades of green 'typical country' kind of house with gables and a wrap around porch and, as it so happens, a canine who thinks of herself as a welcome wagon.

Maybe the shiny Toyota caught her eye. Point in fact, she almost caught the Caddy and because the driver was jabbering away on a cell phone (yes, like where you live, we have a hands-free law that's enforced sort of like Prohibition was, but with smaller glasses and more ice), the car almost bought the large black dog a ride to puppy heaven (and herself a trip to the body shop)before swerving to a near stop and then rapidly accelerating after shifting into IPO. The dog by this time was standing on the double yellow line, tail wagging so furiously I expected the back end to get airborne.

As I approached, very slowly, the dog stepped towards my car, barking (and tail wagging which seems contradictory). I powered the window down and stopped and the dog's shoulders came nearly to the top of my door. When she tilted her up head, she was looking directly at me and since she was no longer barking I figured her reboot switch was on her head. I patted her in such a manner that she took it for petting. This caused her tail to wag even faster and she turned in small circles as if hoping I'd get out of the car right there on the highway and pet her some more.

The lady who lives in the house hurried from inside, down the porch stairs and across the road, calling 'Julia!' repeatedly--not so much irritated as embarrassed. She struggled to put a leash on the animal and talk to me (I usually don't like ambiwhatever-they're-called people, but she told me she'd named the dog for John Lennon's song, which he wrote for his mom who was, as I recall, struck and killed by an automobile). She'd taken her eye off Julia for just a minute and she was gone-and the lady just knew she was on the highway, again.

Again?, I asked. As it turns out, the dog hits the road, Jack, about three days a week, for no more than one or two cars, before coming back and stretching out on the porch to watch the highway. At some point that only Julia knows, the spirits move her and up she stands and away she goes. From the way her owner described it, it almost sounded like Julia was addicted to petting. She struggled to get Julia away from car and the dog tugged so hard that they both made a detour that took them past the Dodge Ram truck whose owner been working his camera phone fast and frantically, tried, and failed, to reach out his window to pet the dog.
Somewhere Zevon smiled,

"He's got the phone in the car in his hand
Everybody's trying to be a friend of mine
Even a dog can shake hands."

It would have been perfect had Julia lifted a leg on his tire, but she was too much of a lady.
-bill kenny