Bea Arthur

My next door neighbor is a big strapping man with broad shoulders and a mop of hair that falls easily across his forehead. His daily uniform consists of worn blue jeans and old sweatshirts. Half the time he looks like he just rolled out of bed.

He rambles down the steps of his building at least twice a day to take his dog out for a walk. She is as delicate as he is beefy, a wisp of a dog that sopping wet might weigh a couple of pounds. They are an odd couple; this hulking thirty-something man with the kind of dog I usually see carried in a purse.

One day, when we were both crossing the parking lot together, I asked him what his dog's name was. He looked lovingly at her and said "Bea Arthur, after the actress."

Dog people. Gotta love them.

“Everyone thinks they have the best dog. And none of them are wrong.” – W.R. Purche