I haven’t mentioned Carmela in quite a while, but that’s not to say, I don’t think of her all the time. Just yesterday I went by her old house still empty, unsold, not even rented looking inside the yard where she’d sit waiting for me.
My heart pulled at its center.
This morning, going up Madison, I see a little speckled butt with a very familiar waddle. Sure enough it was a basset hound, a little girl named Sophie. I said to her owner, a pretty, middle-aged blonde in a sweat suit, she just had to stop to let me hug her.
The thing about the Upper East Side is, it can go either way…embrace or clobber. I was fortunate this woman was kind. “Of course you can hug Soph, she’d love that.”
So, with my dignity at large, there I sat on the pavement with this 8 month-old Carmela lookalike in my lap licking my face. I couldn’t get over the resemblance. Of course my Tubes was far superior in her licking abilities, Sophie still honing hers, but I was happy just the same.
There’s nothing like a little basset love to make you yearn for more. I told Lindy if she ever needs help, to let me know.
Then in my over-the-top, basset delirium realized, I hadn’t given her my number.