I made a new friend at the bus stop this morning. I didn’t actually get her name, but I did learn a few things about her personal life and spiritual beliefs during our brief conversation.
She was the only other person waiting in the rain for the 7:59AM bus and she initiated conversation with me as soon as I approached.
“Excuse me, ma’am, where did you get your rain boots?” she asked.
“Target,” I said.
“Ooohhhh!” she said, looking completely amazed by my multi-colored, polka-dot boots.
I could tell this woman, who was pushing 70-years-old and stood the height of my collarbone, made for amusing conversation, so I jumped on the opportunity to keep it going.
“I usually bike,” I said, “but decided not to today in this rain.”
“There was a snow and rain mix earlier,” she said. “I saw it through the window. There was white stuff mixed with rain. I told my husband and he didn’t believe me, but I know what a snow and rain mix looks like, and it happened.”
I didn’t believe her either, but I went along with it.
“It must have gotten pretty cold last night,” I said, thinking about the fact I had to switch to a lighter blanket in the middle of the night.
“It sure did!” she said. “My dog likes to sleep in bed under the covers, and he did last night. My dog also likes toys, so I gave him Corduroy Bear and he brought that to bed with him. Corduroy Bear is his favorite. They slept in the bed all night long, under the covers, of course.”
I asked what kind of dog she has and she said a Chihuahua/Siberian mix (huh!?) named Huxley, and she got him one month after her previous dog, Pugsley, passed away.
“Pugsley would be 12 now, had she survived,” she said, “but she couldn’t walk and could barely breathe.”
“Did you have to put her down?” I asked.
“Yes, I brought her to die,” she said. “My husband told me not to be in the room when they did it, but I went in anyway. Nobody wants to die alone. It’s the most pitiful tragedy in the world, to die alone.”
I looked at her eyes for signs of tears and wondered if I was going to have to hug this woman at the bus stop at 8AM, but she held strong. Moments later, the bus came by, I got on and the writing of this Buscapade began.