I’d see them nearly every day at the same time, waiting for my bus on Cottman Avenue, post treatment. The old man and his dog, walking down the sidewalk. They made a nice pair. Both of them were slim and long. The dog was kept on a very short leash by the man with the close trimmed pure white beard hunched over and talking to the dog the whole way. The dog, on passing me, would desperately try and make eye contact with me. I could tell how friendly this beautiful dog was, but turned away. I realized that the man was training his new companion, and I was not going to disrupt their bonding, even though I really wanted to meet this fine creature on some level. After about three weeks, the man stopped for a moment where I was standing, waiting. I extended my hand to the dog, who gratefully licked my palm.
“Greyhound?” I asked.
“Yes” He replied.
“She’s a beauty. Rescue?” I asked further.
“Yes” He told me.
I thanked him for the brief encounter, and they continued on their way down the Avenue. Watching them move along their way, I came to the realization that they rescued each other.