Wednesday, May 17
Ooh, wet and cold for little paws.
Reggie does his business and zips back into the warmth of the Best Little Trailer.
Good thing the little, white dog spent the night in Anita’s cozy home!
It’s also a good thing we’re hooked up to electricity.
Our air conditioner has a heat strip and it works very well. I had to run it most of the night because the air temperature dropped into the twenties. I like that it does the job without making a lot of noise.
Reggie and I have breakfast, I check the blog, and we go outside. I want to get photos of the snow before it melts.
I’m dying to go over to the store/cafe to hear about the little dog’s first night in his new home.
It’s too early to bother Anita. This is a busy time at the cafe. She’s probably cooking breakfasts and pouring coffee and all the other tasks she has to do to keep everything running smoothly.
Reg and I circle around through the parking lot.
Whoa! That there is some big and fancy snow removal truck!
Two guys climb out of the cab.
We say “Good morning.” I ask them if they get deep snow around here.
“Not really. What we get are drifts, big drifts.”
“That makes sense, what with the wind that comes through.”
I don’t hold them in conversation.
They’re probably wanting some of Anita’s coffee and cooking.
~ ~ ~
After the morning rush . . .
I pick up Reggie and we pop into the store. The bell over the door clangs and Anita turns away from the cash register.
“Oh, it’s RVSue and her canine crew!” She smiles broadly, eyes sparkling.
“Hello, Reggie . . . .”
“Well, how’d it go?” I ask eagerly.
“Great! It went great! Oh, I gotta’ tell you,” she exclaims. “I’ll be outside in just a minute!”
When Anita exits the store and rushes toward Reggie and me, her face beams and she’s practically skipping across the pavement. When she speaks, her words are as bright and joyous and exciting as fireworks exploding light and color across a dark sky.
“He’s such a SWEETIE! I let him out in the yard and he found this big stick and was carrying it around in his mouth. Oh, I have a picture!”
She reaches into her jeans pocket and pulls out her phone.
“Look at this! See him? Isn’t he cute marching around? Look at how big that stick is –”
Ha! She sounds like a proud parent of a toddler.
“Oh, he does looks happy, Anita!”
“Yes, he’s IS happy. I’ve decided to call him Roger. Roger of Rogerson.”
She giggles before continuing.
“And he likes to burrow!”
“You mean like under the covers? Reggie does that, too!”
“And you know what else? He’s housebroken. He didn’t mess in the house at all. I’m so proud of him!”
“I’m very happy for you, Anita.”
Suddenly Anita’s demeanor changes.
She gazes into the distance, recalling another time.
“I used to have a dog. A big, beautiful, black lab. What a great dog. Someone dropped him off on the highway down that way. It took me three days to find him and bring him here. Everybody wanted him but he was always my dog.”
She stops for a moment.
“Well, when he died — after he died — I didn’t think I could ever –”
Her voice breaks and her eyes fill with tears.
“I didn’t think I could ever open my heart again . . . ”
Oh, now I’m choked up, too.
“And then you come along and . . . .”
Reggie looks up at us, concerned.
“It’s okay, Reg,” I reassure him.
Anita looks in my eyes with intensity.
“You know? It’s all about timing. Timing is everything in life. I have a daughter in Texas. Her horse died so I went down there to be with her and to see my granddaughter — she’s three — and I stayed for two-and-a-half weeks. I come back and everyone’s been trying for a week to catch this stray dog. I try, too, for about another week. And then you come along, just at the right time, and everything comes together –”
“It wasn’t me. It was Reggie.”
“It was you AND Reggie.”
She smiles at Reg, the love ambassador.
“You’re right, Anita, a lot of life is about timing. I don’t want to make too much of this, but let me tell you, I couldn’t figure out why the heck I was in such a big, darn hurry to get to Rogerson, Idaho. We’re in Caliente, Nevada, and I’m thinking about Rogerson, of all places. Nothing against your town — it’s nice here — but I could go anywhere. I’ve been here and done that. Know what I mean?”
Anita chuckles, nodding.
“Plus I knew we’d hit cold weather and my propane heater isn’t even working! Yet I had it in my head that we had to keep going and get ourselves to Rogerson.”
We laugh at how our lives joined together — all four of us — Anita, me, Reggie and Roger.
A cloud moves, letting the sun shine on us in the parking lot. The last trace of snow is melting.
“And you know what else, Anita? Because of all this, Roger has found his calling. He has. That little dog has found his purpose in life —
He’s ROGER, THE MASCOT OF ROGERSON!”
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