The Birthday Boxer

by Donna Louise Anderson
(Tucson, AZ)

Brockton is my 6 year old, flashy fawn Boxer. He enjoys quite a social life.

Last Saturday, my three daughters and I put a birthday hat on Brockton and brought him to a nursing home to visit our friend Sandy. She had turned 70 a few days before.

Brockton attracted everyone's attention at the home. When we walked down the hallway on our way to Sandy's room, a nursing supervisor approached us. For a moment I was afraid she would say that Brockton had to leave, but instead, she knelt down and patted his head, telling him how handsome he was.

As we continued to Sandy's room, different residents sat in their wheelchairs, lining the halls like they were waiting for a parade--they got one!

My oldest daughter, Christa, led the way, carrying a gift bag wrapped in gold ribbon. Next came my teenager, Odeta, holding the hand of her kindergarten-aged sister, Trinity Joy, who wore a red and black velvet dress. But the unmistakable star of our impromptu parade was the dashing figure of Brockton the Boxer, prancing down the hall proudly in his birthday hat.

Aging hands reached out as Brockton passed by, and he stopped and greeted each delighted nursing home resident. He lifted his soft black jowls up to people, loving them with his soulful brown eyes. They patted the wrinkly fur of his head and waved as he rejoined his entourage.

We found our friend being wheeled down the hall by a nursing assistant. When Sandy caught sight of Brockton, the girls, and the gift bag, her face lit up.

"I love you guys!" She shouted out joyously as the aide wheeled her closer.

The angel with fur had done it again, offering his love to lonely hearts.