Some days, I am especially grateful that we have a blog. What do people without blogs do, when something weird and kind of cool happens to them? I guess they have to take their chances with the Metropolitan Diary at the New York Times. Here goes.
Scene: Central Park, 8-ish a.m.
Dramatis personae/canae: Me/my Olive, my pal Lisa/her Artie
Walking along the path to the Dog-Friendly Caffeine Stop, I spy a collar on the ground and pick it up. It’s a fancy collar from the Doggy Duds Shoppe, with a little flashlight on it (for night safety), a vaccination tag, and an insurance tag. I am sure that the owner would want it back, if only for the proof of vaccination. The insurance tag says “to contact owner call 800-“.
I call the 800 number. I explain that I’m in the park, and that in all likelihood the owner of the dog/collar is probably still nearby, and I’d like to give them back their collar. For security reasons, they can’t tell me who that person is, but they take my cell phone number.
Five minutes later, my cell phone rings. It’s Al. Al is indeed in the park, walking his dog, Emma. The thing is, Emma didn’t lose her collar. But he agrees to meet us at the cafe.
Enter Al. Lisa, Al and I marvel momentarily at the fact that it’s not his collar, it’s not his dog, it’s not his insurance company, but when they called him, he was in the park.
We are going to get to the bottom of this. Al calls the insurance company.
For security reasons, they won’t tell Al who their customer is. But, in a shocking breach of procedure, they tell him the name of the dog, one “Lily”. Al has a neighbor, Debra, with a dog named Lily. We deduce that Lily is insured by this company, and that Debra has given them Al’s number as a back-up contact.
Case solved! Al takes custody of the collar. We chat briefly, by which I mean Lisa begins a surgical direct examination to discover where Al lives, what Al does, and whether Al is single. (A guy has to get up pretty early in the morning to avoid revealing his locator, employer and relationship details to Lisa.) Al has to go. (Surprise!)
Five minutes later. Al is back.
With Debra and Lily.
Lily is 9 months old. She was wrassling with another dog while off leash, and lost her collar without Debra realizing it.
That is the end of the story.
Today I am finishing the dang pullover, hell or high water. Stand by: sleeve in progress.