Cookie

I meet a lot of people on my daily dog outings. Most are pretty nice, some are creeps, and every once in a while, ill meet a true gem. I was lucky enough to meet one such person, in the Tompkins Square dog park last Thursday.

It was a busier day than normal and my usual seat (on the bench next to the quiet man with the headphones, New York times and Pit bull-mix) was already taken. So, my eyes eagerly scanned over to an open spot on the next bench, where an older, cartoonish-type man sat watching his adorable mix breed dog.

The man was straight out of a Roald Dahl book. He had a round tummy, held in by the same high-waisted, tan pants that connected to long red suspenders covering his grey patterned shirt. You could tell that he had been sporting his tattered old newsboy cap since before it was popular. And his face could only be described as "jolly".

The man looked weathered, but in a good way. I walked over and smiled subtly as I sat on the other side of the iron armrest. Truthfully, I didn't think the two of us would speak at all, but like the amazing conversation-starter he is, Billy started to hump this man's dog.

Our talks began slowly. The man (who I would later learn is named David) has a slight speech problem so it takes a bit longer for him to form words. But its worth the wait. I learned that David has lived in the same east village apartment for over 30 years. The rent, which started out at a billowing $120/month, has now topped off at $350. And he makes his keep by selling articles at local fairs and the occasional Astor Place vendor strip. Before becoming a vendor (which he has been doing for the past 25+ years) David lived on a commune in Virginia.

It was difficult, because I could tell his speech impediment was both embarrassing for him, and keeping him from giving me special details about his life. His explanations were rather simple. And although I was so interested in hearing more, I only had 1/2 hour before it was time to bring Billy back home.

After leaving the park that day, I felt as though I had met someone important. But, as the dog park sometimes goes, I wasn't sure that I would see him again. Today, however, I did. At first, I wasn't sure if I should approach David. On one hand, I was eager to talk to him and hear more about his life, but on the other hand, being the introvert that I am, I didn't want to give up my dog park "Billy-and-me" time.

After about 10 minutes of back and forth, I walked over and sat on the bench across from David... and he, in turn, walked over to sit on the bench right next to me. I cant quite explain it, and it could be because of my failing grandfather, or maybe its because Im still trying to find my way, but Im so interested in talking to David and hearing his story.

Lately, Im more and more interested in hearing how people have made it in the world... how they've managed to find their way through all of life's obstacles. When I think of my grandpa right now, I imagine what he was like as a 26 year old. I imagine that he was once the same age as me, looking at life with many of the same questions. And now, he's learned all there is to know here...or at least, all HE will ever learn here. Everyone has a story. Some people are living it, some are reflecting and others are slowly turning the last page of the chapter to see what lies ahead. Im really interested in hearing those stories. So I look forward to the next time I see David at the dog park. He's a sweet, old man with a lot to say...if youve got the time to listen.

Oh, and his dog's name is Cookie.