1992 … Bonding beautifully with Billy
And this was also the auspicious year when I found Billy – or rather, when Billy found me. You see, I had taken to spending the fair-weathered days of my law school days soaking up the sunshine on the roof of the law school parking garage. And it was on one of said fine days when a miniature poodle came right up to me, licked my hand, and lay down underneath my lawn chair. I remember heading inside for something to drink (thinking that he would be gone after I returned), and yet when I came back there he was, wagging his tail and acting as though I was a long-lost best friend finally found (as most dogs are wont to do when their human companions return from trips of any length) … Well, after hanging out with him up there for a few more hours, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him again, so I put him in my car and took him home. He was quite dirty and yet had quite the fine haircut, so I assumed that his owner was one of the elderly folks who lived in the many retirement complexes nearby. And yet after asking at every single one of said facilities (and placing an ad in the paper to boot), it seemed that no one was missing my newfound Friend. So I took him to the pound, hoping that a nice family would adopt him there, and yet he was such a pathetically loud whiner therein that no one even gave him a second glance. So, on the day he was scheduled to be euthanized, I adopted him and named him “Billy” (after then recently deceased Supreme Court Judge William Brennan). And so began one of the greatest Friendships my life has ever known … Billy slept on my bed at night, cuddled up with me every morning while I watched The Price is Right, and passive-aggressively destroyed my possessions whenever I left him for any significant period of time. He was absolutely convinced that he could drive my car, and demanded that he be allowed to sit in my lap and steer whenever we went anywhere together. When my law school days were over and I was preparing to leave the country, I flew him to Wildwood (Georgia) to live on my mom & stepfather’s farm – a place where his infamy grew to mythical proportions, and where he quite Joy-fully lived the final decade of his legendary life …
“True friends walk in when the rest of the world has walked out.” ~ Walter Winchell
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