Yesterday as I was strolling with Dover down a quiet street where I know not a single person living in the houses or apartments along the way, a voice suddenly shattered the quiet late afternoon neighborhood calm.
"Doggie!" the 2 year old voice in the window shrieked. And she repeated it - Doggie! I looked for her but couldn't find the face in a window. She kept right on task - repeating that singe unadorned word with increasing urgency and certainly unbridled joy.Every so often she turned to another in the room, who wasn't responding with the same breathless glee, so she doubled her efforts.
As we passed on down the street and out of her sight, she gradually ended her announcement to the neighborhood. I was sorry I never got a glimpse of her, or asked Dover to pause and do a trick for her benefit.
But the joy she caught and spread as she watched from her first floor window was splendid. And catching; I upped my step from from a slow late afternoon stroll to a jauntier pace.
Immagine being the one who is able to cause such exuberant joy - just by virtue of being.
Dover had a busy two days over the weekend, being present at two Memorial Day parades and taking the opportunity to greet all ages at these community events; he automatically expects to be part of all gatherings he chances upon. He is not a reticent New Englander at heart, in spite of being one by birth and place of residence. My daughter once described the helping out, hale and hearty attitudes after a late season paralyzing snow storm in Minnesota with this phrase: "Friendliness was rampant." Rampant friendliness seems to be what parades in small towns foster - and Dover is happy to do his part.
People of all ages, kids on bikes, old cars, potato trucks, fire fighters with shiny axes, and, of course, girl scouts and boy scouts.
