Jul 25 2002
Animal etc.
Dichotomy du jour: the guy running up California Street this morning (and I do mean up – it’s one of the steeper hills in the city) with a cigarette in his mouth Bogart-style. Even though I saw him do it, I can still hardly believe that anyone can run up that vertiginous hill while smoking. I walk up it every day on my way home and by the time I get to the crest of the hill where the Fairmont is, if I had anyone to talk to I’d sound as breathless as Marilyn Monroe.
One of the fun things about working in the Financial District is that it is a favored place for Guide Dogs for the Blind to train guide dogs. This morning, they were unloading the dogs from their van and it was so hard not to pet them, especially the happy little yellow Lab puppies! Can you imagine that being your whole job: training and playing with guide dogs? I’d pay them to be able to do that.
They reminded me of the time I was with my father and we were taking the train to Guildford, Surrey, together (travelling by train is surely the most pleasant possible mode of transport). Dad assisted an elderly blind lady into the train, accompanied by her guide dog. She told us that she was going to visit her former guide dog, who had gotten too old to be her service dog but now lives with an old friend of the lady’s in the country. The lady said she loved her new dog, but was still deeply attached to her old dog, who had served her for almost 15 years!
One of the animal charities John and I support is the wonderful animal sanctuary in Utah, Best Friends. They put out a monthly newsletter that is exceptionally entertaining, informative, and as they put it “all the good news about animals”. We support many animal charities, but I can’t bear to read the tales of cruelty, neglect, and abandonment. So the news from Best Friends is always especially welcome. This month’s issue had an article on a parrot owned by Winston Churchill. Churchill was my father’s hero since he was a a boy, not surprising since Dad grew up in London during WWII (when I visited Dad’s parents in the Silver Jubilee summer of 1977, Dad’s wartime picture of Churchill was still pasted to the wall in their bomb shelter). I wish I could share this story with him:
“The owner of a parrot who was taught to swear by Winston Churchill is claiming that the parrot is the oldest bird in Britain. Charlie, a blue and gold macaw, is reported to be 103.
He seems to be getting a bit cantankerous in his old age, but still manages to whistle away happily. Although he had two owners before Churchill, his colorful use of language is said to spring directly from the late Prime Minister.”
If I live to be 103, I fully expect to be cantankerous and using colorful language!