Puppy Love
Everyday Ricky would ask his mother for a puppy, and everyday his mother would explain that she could not afford to buy one. Money was tight, and with his father being laid off, it was just not the time for a puppy. Ricky was heartbroken, and still with faithful resolve, every morning the same question came form his lips.
On one such morning, his mother feeling as badly as Ricky concerning the puppy, gave in a little. She explained to Ricky that if he could find someone to give him a puppy, if he took care of it and saw to it that it was fed and watered, he could have one. Ricky was beside himself with joy, so much so that he hugged his mother’s legs for nearly five minutes.
Ricky walked to school nearly everyday, everyday that is except on days when it rained. He would then ride with Mrs. Boyd, the elderly schoolteacher that lived next door. Most mornings though, he walked by himself to the small grade school six blocks from his home. Ricky had to leave early on these mornings as he did not walk fast, but he loved the freedom of going to school by himself, so he did not mind getting up early.
On this morning there was a special pep in his step over the news that his mother had finally given in and he could have a puppy. But where would one go to find free puppies? Even the pound charged for their puppies. The thought invaded every other thought all day and his teacher, normally a sweet woman, had to scold him about day- dreaming.
At recess Ricky sat as always beside the old oak, which centered the recess yard. He had no friends to play with, as this was his fifth school, of what seemed like an endless number, he had attended in the past two years. Ricky was anxious for school to let out for the day and he hoped it would not rain as he really wanted to scout the six blocks home for any sign of free puppies. Unfortunately, his wish did not come true.
At the three o’clock bell, signaling the end of the school day, the sky had turned black and there was a slight sprinkle in anticipation of more ominous weather on the horizon. He stood on the front stoop of the schoolhouse and waited for Mrs. Boyd. Finally, she arrived, clutching her black umbrella over head as not to wet her silver blue hair. She grabbed Ricky by the hand and headed to the car. Once inside, she buckled Ricky up, started the engine of the old Buick and turned to Ricky. “We will not be going straight home Ricky, I have to swing by the drug store for some medicine. It will only take a minute.” Ricky nodded politely and sat quietly en-route to the Rexall Drug Store.
Mrs. Boyd insisted he come into the store with her, and so, he braved the increasingly heavy rain, grabbed her finger as was the rule, and followed her into the store.
Upon entering the store, Ricky clutched to Mrs. Boyd’s hand all the way to the pharmacy counter. As Mrs. Boyd began to conduct her business Ricky began to look at the small makeshift bulletin board. He could not make out all the words, something about a babysitter needed, another said they would sew, another was looking for firewood. Then as if a big brass cymbal was suddenly sounded, a small hand scrolled note which simply read: FREE PUPPIES, call 555-780 and ask for Bill.
Without thinking, Ricky snatched the note and stuffed it into his pocket. He could not wait to show it to his mother.
As soon as he came in the door he rushed to his mother and asked if she would please call the number. She hesitated only a little and made the call. They had set up a time for Saturday morning for Ricky to look at the puppies. Ricky did not sleep for the next two days. All he could think about was the puppy. What it would look like, what he would name it, the fun they would have. Ricky no longer thought of the past and all the problems, now he looked forward to Saturday, and his new best friend.
Finally, Saturday arrived and Ricky and his mother climbed into the old Chevrolet. Ricky buckled himself in as he wanted his mom to know what a big boy he was becoming. They had about a ten- minute drive, which his mother used to go over again the rules for keeping a puppy. He was to clean up all messes. Take the puppy outside at least twice a day, bathe it and always make sure it had plenty of water. The list ended at about the time they pulled into the driveway.
The house was a bit run down. It needed painting and a child in a diaper played on the front porch while an aging, bald man sat on a makeshift stool that used to be a milk crate. He was smoking a huge cigar and smelled of fresh fish. He stood as Ricky and his mom approached the steps to the porch. “Ya’ll must be here about the puppies!” Ricky’s mom nodded as they were led through the house and out to the back porch, which served both as a playpen and laundry room. In a corner of the porch, there was a cardboard box that the old gentleman pointed to and boomed, “There they are, go pick ya out one or two.”, to which Ricky’s mom held up one finger with a wink.
Ricky stepped up to the huge box, which had half of the word refrigerator in bold print. Obviously it had been cut in half. In the box he saw six puppies. There was a black and white one with an all white tail. Another had spots of black on a mostly white body. Three were all black and one was gray, all gray. Five of the puppies were playing and yapping and tumbling within the box while the little gray fellow just watched. He picked up the little gray one and held him as only a little boy can. The he exclaimed; “This is the one!”
“No, not that one son.” the big man boomed. “You want one that can run and play with you, one that can fetch and follow you to school. This puppy can’t do any of these things. You see, that little gray fellow there is crippled. Pick another one.” Ricky looked up with tears in his eyes and began to pull up his pant leg revealing the braces from a childhood disease that had caused him to undergo countless surgeries and many moves for his family to be close while he recovered. “Yes sir, I know the puppy is crippled, but you see, I am crippled too. I thought since we are both crippled, we could be better friends.”
The big man could only mouth the word, “I’m sorry”, as Ricky and his mom pulled off in the old Chevy. Ricky had at long last found a friend.
The moral of this story is simply this…we all tend to gravitate toward those that are much like ourselves. To really grow as human beings is when we are able to stretch our comfort zone and love even the unlovely. Every human being has value even if they do not live in the same neighborhood; travel in the same social circle; or the same tax bracket. Only when we look past threes things and see humankind in the image of God do we truly become a real humanitarian. Let’s fact it, we have all been crippled by some- thing, it’s just that braces are more evident in some of us.
R. A. Ryan
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