Bridget

I give a toast to Scooter’s,

And all my newfound pals

A place with friendly faces,

And many pretty gals

An oasis in the desert,

Where there is a good chance

That any given moment,

You can find romance

With regrets, I must leave the Den

I hope to come this way again

Now I leave with a tear in my eye

Farewell as I bid all a heartfelt goodbye

~ Gemini Joe ~

n Monday morning, I drove to the local animal shelter.

“I’d like to adopt a puppy,” I told the clerk.

“We don’t have any puppies, but there are a lot of older dogs who are looking for a home.”

“Can I look?”

“Sure!” She fumbled for the keys and strained to raise her large body from the chair. We went through the double doors, where I heard the cacophony of barking dogs.

“I want a small dog,” I said, peeking into each cage.

Most of the dogs were mutts and too large to keep in my small trailer. I was about to leave when I noticed a small white dog curled up in a tiny cage. It had its back turned, so I couldn’t see its face.

“What kind of dog is that?” I asked.

“That’s a Yorkshire terrier, but she’s very old. She’s scheduled to be euthanized at the end of the week.”

“Can I see her?”

“Sure, but she doesn’t have much life left in her.”

As soon as the cage was open, the little white dog jumped up and ran to the door. I picked her up in my arms and she licked my face. I laughed for the first time in weeks. I said, “I think she likes me.”

“She has health problems,” the woman warned.

“I don’t care. I want her.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait. We have puppies coming in all the time.”

“This is my puppy!” I said.

After signing papers and paying a fee, I drove home with the small dog on my lap. She looked up at me with loving eyes.

I said, “You need a name.” I thought of the most beautiful woman I knew of—Bridget Bardot. “Bridget, that’s what I’ll call you.”

I think she liked it because she licked my hand and wagged her tail.

With Bridget by my side, I didn’t feel so alone. Everyone in the trailer park came by to pet her.

For the first time in my life, I felt at peace. I started to get creative again and began to build things. My cigarette burned in the ashtray as I focused on building birdhouses and feeders with wood, glue, and paint. I had to pause once in a while to cough. I was getting the same thing my father had, emphysema.

I have a little shed with my tools and I learned a lot pulling nails out of wood. So here I am, making birdhouses, and windmills, and lighthouses, you name it. I don’t sell them, I don’t know why. I give them away to everyone. I made all my neighbors a lighthouse. I don’t want money. I want friendship and love. That would be great for me. That’s my reward.

They said, “Joe, you should enter them in the craft shows.”

So I did and along with prizes and ribbons, I made a lot of friends. They all came by to say hello and check out my latest creations.