Lucky Dog

Lucky is a 15 year-old toy poodle who’s on his way to the dentist to have a tooth pulled.

He belongs to Mr. Brooks Brothers, the man I see in Starbucks most mornings.

I first saw them one Sunday more or less standing still, since Lucky now resembles a Hummel, unable to go very far.  I of course ignored this, bending down to scratch his butt, one of those universal dog gestures that can’t miss, at any age.

Mr B, in his rumpled khakis and polo shirt, his hair sticking up like Alfalfa’s, talked about Lucky as if he’d be competing in the Westminster Dog Show.

Let’s just say, Lucky is so old, if you put him up on your bookshelf, he’d stay there.

This morning, when we met, Mr.B. was very nervous over Lucky’s dental appointment.  I asked if Lucky was in any pain, and was he eating?”  “Yes,” he said. “He eats fine and doesn’t seem to be in any discomfort.”

“So, why not just leave him be.  I mean he is 15 after all.”

Well, you would have thought I was an undertaker, trying to make a quick sale.

“If you had an abscess, wouldn’t you have it taken care of?  I mean really!!!”

Now, I’m not versed in figuring out how old I’d be in dog years, since it’s just too scary, but said, “if I was, you know, creeping up there, I might feel it wasn’t necessary to put myself through that.”

See, it’s always risky putting an older animal (not to mention a human), under anesthesia, which was the whole point he pretended, he wasn’t getting.  It was clear he was concerned about it too.

“Who’s taking him to the vet?”

“I am.”

“Is anyone going with you (like the wife we never see)?”

“No, I’m going alone.”

“Want me to meet you there, ya know, for support?”

Boy, did I get a strange look.  I wasn’t exactly making a pass at him, but of course, he doesn’t know me as Joan of Bark, just some stray he sees in the Starbuck’s line, but that’s his problem and yes, he declined the offer.

As they say in 12 Step, what you think of me, is none of my business.


Epilogue…according to sources (Julie the barista), Lucky came through with flying colors and is resting comfortably, reading the Times, eating mango sorbet, his favorite.

Lucky dog.



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
This entry was posted in animals, Family, grace, humanity, humor, New York City, Starbucks and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

28 Responses to Lucky Dog

  1. If it was indeed an abscess, it has to be taken care of as it will poison his system. I have a hard time remembering you are a New Yorker. Asking to support must be alien up there. I would take your offer up on a heartbeat!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Kate Howell says:

    Nice story, very bold of u to ask to go. Next time I take Tucker to the vet you’ll get a call. LOL Called Sam twice he didn’t call me back I’m calling agin Monday. Have a nice day!😎

    Hal Rubenstein from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    My extended family and I have had elderly dogs that developed tumors. I agree that there is a time when operations should be declined. Our current oldie dog, Sam, exhibits no pain from his tumors. He is a pound dog, so we aren’t positive about his age, but figure it to be at least 16.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Steve says:

    A nice post for November 5th which is Do Something Nice Day!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’m cracking up over here at your description of Lucky sitting on the bookshelf…lol! No doubt sporting glasses and a bowtie.
    Glad to hear that Lucky made out good and is back to his life as the spoiled sherbert eating canine of NYC.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I’ll bet Lucky would have told you how grateful he was for your offer, if he could only talk.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Sounds like he is a lucky dog, to be that old and have a caring owner and even get mango sherbet. 🙂 Glad it went okay. You are kind to offer to go with them.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. We just lost our toy poodle of 17 years. Live long, Lucky.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. micklively says:

    Just love “Joan of Bark”. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I have people who worry about me like that. I mean, it’s always…”You know…” or …”What if…” Really, why not just say, “Hey, worried about you. Don’t want to lose you.” I would argue the same way, it would just be a bit…um…more truly honest. You can ALWAYS find sometime bad to say about anything. I see a 94 year old man who still knows who I am and can walk when he feels like it and I think, “Wow! Doing well for 94.” Others, especially family, are often like, “He is going downhill fast.” I always wonder how high they think that danged hill is anyway?

    Liked by 1 person

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