The Hug That Was Felt Around The World

I’m in Greenpoint, the Detroit of Brooklyn, making my way home passing a furniture store. images.jpeg It’s not one that would normally catch my eye, since it looks like what my friend Camille would call, Early Bunker, but then something does catch my eye, two to be exact.

The biggest, brownest bedroom pair on four legs right in the heart of Brooklyn.

A pit the size of a Humvee is seated on a sofa like King Tut. Unknown-1.jpeg

I have to go in.

“Are you the owner,” I purr, praying he doesn’t bite my leg thinking I’m a furniture felon.

This has nothing to do with his pit-hood. If he was a Yorkie the size of a squeegie, I’d still be cautious before holding out the palm of my hand, in a gesture of goodwill.

He hops off the couch, the perfect host, to sniff me from stem to stern. In other words, hand to crotch, before nuzzling me like a sexy sailor.

“Excuse me,” I say grinning, “but have we properly met?”

Just then a 40ish looking, large male pops out of an office and says, “Joey, rememba’ ya mannas’…youes’ a genelman’.”

I’m so charmed, I suddenly find myself seated on a futon in the shape of a grapefruit.

Only in Brooklyn.

Joey was rescued by Harry when he was about 8 months old, now 3. He was freezing in the cold by the corner subway stop when Harry was coming to work.

After giving him half of his egg and cheese sandwich, that was it, Joey became Harry’s.

“Why did you name him Joey?”

Joey Gallo was a friend’a my fatha’s, also kinda’ brave and dumb at da’ same time, with loads’a choom’ too so, hey, it’s a good’a name as any.”

Joey Gallo was a gangster who got gunned down in 1972, on his 43rd birthday in Little Italy, his face last seen in a plate of scungilli.

After regaining myself, kissing Joey on the head ready to leave, Harry says, “Ya know, everybady’s’ afraid’a him, and youes’, such a lady ( I have on ripped jeans and a hoodie with Jackie glasses that make me look like a large bee) just comes struttin’ in here. Can wes’ give ya a hug?”

Now before I can say yes or no, he throws his Popeye arms around me, hugging me so tight, I may have dropped a dress size, while Joey wraps himself around my legs.

Think ménage a’ trois’ with a sectional plus a tail.

And despite what it may sound like, it’s not a flirty hug at all, just an old-fashioned show of innocent affection I can’t help basking in.

When I’m at the corner about to go down the stairs to get the train, I turn to find Harry and Joey waving, making me wonder, just how that grapefruit might look in my living room.

🙂images.jpeg

SB

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 Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in animals, Culture, friendship, humanity, humor, inspiration, Love, New York City, travel, words and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

36 Responses to The Hug That Was Felt Around The World

  1. Dale says:

    Ahhh Susannah! What a wonderful story to share! I’m half in love with Joey and Harry myself!
    And, by the way, doesn’t matter what you are wearing, the way a woman carries herself does all the talkin’ and Harry and Joey ain’t no dummies, obviously…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What a wonderful encounter! Joey could feel your love streaming out.

    We were in a junk shop in the mountains yesterday, and our charmer was Molly. Grandson David went right for her after checking with the owner. She held a tennis ball in her mouth most of the time. While we looked at old records and books, Molly barked. She had let the ball go, and it rolled under a chair. The owner tilted the chair to expose the ball, and she was happy again. That became David’s role as rescuer for the remainder of our browsing time. I’m kicking myself for not taking a photo of man and dog together.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sorryless says:

    Joey has muscles on his muscles, and no matter . . because he’s got a leash on my heart. That dude is a love magnet. How do you NOT love that guy?!!!

    When Harry met Joey . . the world got more sensible.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ross de Marco says:

    Don’t know about the grapefruit but the pitty sounds like a great dog . Is that an actual picture or is that just a stock photo ? Love that chocolate color . Have seen labs like that . Sounds like you made a new friend !

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m not in Greenpoint very often, but I guess if I stopped in I’d probably get a cannoli in the shape of a bone. He is a beautiful, COLOSSAL, doggie to be sure, proving, you can’t judge a pit by his size and color. He’s like Nana in Peter Pan.

      Like

  5. skinnyuz2b says:

    You have such a way of bringing out the best in man or beast! Hugs with no strings attached are the best.
    As for the grapefruit chair, I think you should hold out for mango.
    I hope your Easter was a happy one.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh, perhaps, dinner with the mister or walking Joey, but please…not the grapefruit! lol

    Liked by 1 person

  7. noellevdor says:

    Sweet story, sweet pup, and sweet grapefruit chair!

    Liked by 1 person

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