For my first three years here in Olympia, there was a guy up the street with a great dog named Buddy. Some kind of beagle or beagle mix probably; anyway, a terrific, sweet, friendly dog. The guy himself was a bit crazy, but I liked him, too.
About a year ago, they vanished, but no for sale or for rent signs never appeared on the house. I decried the loss at the time in this blog; I've been scared to ask the neighbors all along for fear of hearing that the man had died and Buddy had been taken by the county.
Today, though there was no Buddy sighting, I saw the man again. He appeared to be showing the house to prospective new tenants. He recognized me and waved (and I waved back). He had cleaned up a lot. I think it's reasonable to infer that he and Buddy are living in new quarters and that Buddy is well. (For once I wasn't being shy or scared of bad news; the guy was trying to show a house after all and didn't need to be bugged by neighbors.) It made me a lot happier anyway. Buddy lives! (Probably.)
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