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This is a big city story. There are some that claim that rural people are the backbone of this country, or that the suburbs are the ideal places for families. Others extoll the joys of small town living. These different environs all have their charms and advantages, but anyone who has ever lived in a big city can attest that where there are a lot of humans, there are a lot of human stories. Here is another.
In the late 1990’s, I was assigned by my employer to Boston, working at the MBTA to help install, test and manage temporarily a new command and control system for the rail mass transit system. One day, a manager asked me to take a piece of equipment to the facility at the JFK/Umass station of the Red Line, where a backup control center was being set up (in case of disaster). I took the equipment and rode the train from the South Station stop down to JFK/Umass.
When I arrived, I had to ask a ticket taker and a transit cop for directions, as I had never been there before. I finally arrived at a plain, metal door on the platform between two sets of tracks, which, when opened revealed a set of concrete steps leading upward. I climbed the stairs, and was enthusiastically greeted by a big, very friendly, dog.
This was no problem for me, being a dog lover, and after introducing myself to the dog, I found the backup site off to the right. I walked in and gave the field guys (these are the ones with toolbelts who actually install the physical equipment) the delivery. The dog followed me into the room and jumped up on a couch against the back wall.
I asked whose dog it was, and I was told, “He’s nobody’s dog”. Here is his story. He was rescued as a puppy on the tracks of the Red Line at the JFK?UMass stop. Subsequent ads and postings did not lead anyone to claim the pup. and by that time he had settled quite nicely into llife at the station. So now he lived there.
This resourceful pup made quite a nice life for himself, living in a place with dozens of men (they were all men then), manning the station 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
I went into the break room and got a paper cup full of coffee. I put a dollar into the can labeled, “Coffee”. Then I put another buk into the can marked, “Dog”. Hey, I got my greeting. I owed it.
When I returned to the office on High Street, I was greeted by a manger, who asked me if I delivered the part I said that I did, and he asked, “Did you meet the dog”?
“Oh, you know about the dog”.
“Everybody knows about the dog”!
And they did. Normally, the MBTA is known as a stickler for rules. In this case, everyone was willing to let it slide.
So raise your coffee cups in a toast to a plucky little puppy whose resourcefulness allowed him to create his own wonderful home. And it was wonderful and a happier pooch I’ve never seen.
❧
Have to include this one...
And this one...
Martha was Paul's English Sheepdog, in case anyone didn't know that...
And finally...
Have a great morning, everyone!
