“Hello!” shouted a youthful voice from somewhere above and behind me. I looked up and saw a little boy standing on a balcony, waving.
“Hello!” I said, waving back.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Walking!” I shot back.
“Don’t walk in the road,” he said.
“There are no sidewalks!” I replied. “But I’ll be careful.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding satisfied. “See ya!”
I’d never seen the little guy before. Maybe he was bored and lonesome, with no one to play with, like many of us during the Covid era.
A little later I passed a man bringing his trash can up from the curb, with a gold and white cat sitting in front of the driveway. A cat I’d seen frequently on my walks, who loved to be petted. A cat I called Honeybun, because of its gold and white coloring.
I stopped and asked, “Is that your cat?”
“I firmly believe that cats adopt us and not the other way around,” he replied. “But, yeah, he’s ours.”
“What’s his name?” I asked, bending down to pat Honeybun.
“Jonesy,” he answered.
“Have a good one,” he said, walking back up the driveway with his trashcan as I gave Honeybun one last pat.
Then, a little later, my path converged with that of an elderly gentleman walking his dog across from the softball field.
“Cute dog,” I said.
Sensing my interest, he told me she was an Australian Shepherd named Sugar. Then, warming to his subject, he told me of Sugar’s sweet disposition, and how she got her name. “She’s a tri-color; the three colors of sugar: dark brown, light brown and white.”
Pretty soon we parted ways and he turned toward his house. I said good-bye to Sugar as they peeled off and she turned her head toward me. “You got her attention!” laughed her master.
I may never see these people again; they’re just random encounters. But they lift my spirits every single time.
