Al is a mutt, and Zeke, a five year-old boy, with autism. Think Timmy and Lassie, just a tad imperfect.
Zeke’s mom has her hands full, which is why, when I see Al, tied to the no-longer-in-use phone booth in front of Starbucks, never lecture her, instead, sort of hang around Al making sure nothing happens to him.
About 6 months ago, after seeing me pet their dog for 15 minutes, Zeke, plastered to the window like ET, both came out, me kindly suggesting, why not make Al a wellness dog.
That would mean, he can go anywhere…restaurants, planes, you name it, as long as he had his credentials.
She looked stupefied, and guess I would too, if I had a son bouncing off the walls making Rainman look presidential (now there’s a thought).
After that, I didn’t see them for a while, but guess what?
Today, when they ALL came into Starbucks, Al had on his uniform, which is a special harness that says…On Duty…Service Dog.
Do to my own circumstances, my emotions are so close to the surface, that when Mom whispered, thank you to me, had to run out the back door, so they wouldn’t see me cry.