ast month my Alpha lost his friend, Mr. Joe. Or at least, I think Mr. Joe is no longer there. It's hard to tell what goes on inside the corner store because the windows are blocked up with signs, produce, notices of community events and family pictures. Not to mention the plethora of plant life on the inside. But as you know, these plants - Norfolk pines, Dieffenbachia, potted palms and the rest - are pretty useless as plants go. They won't let you leave your mark on them.
My Alpha goes to two stores: the one in the middle of a parking lot and the one on the corner. It's easy to see inside the parking lot store: big windows, bright lights, wide aisles. When people come in and out, you can smell paper, chocolate and floor soap, but it's all very antiseptic. Alpha never stays in there very long - just in, get something, pay at the counter and out again.
At the corner store, he takes his time. I'm left outside beside the racks of newspapers and the bedding-out plants. The noise from the traffic passing nearby is very loud, but I prefer it to the exhaust of the cars in the parking lot at the other store. Every time Alpha left me outside and went in through that door, he always came out with a bigger smile on his face, chatting his goodbyes as we left for home. And whenever Alpha took the Lump in there, the little guy came out with a big smile and a lollipop. Seems that Mr. Joe always kept lollipops on hand for lumps of both genders.
The humanoids like to gather here, even if they must leave us outside. You can tell they like to spend time here, just like they now linger longer at Windsor Park with the snow gone. But with Mr. Joe no longer there, my Alpha wishes he spent more time in that store on the corner - wishes he stayed to chat more, getting to know Joe and his family and other friends better.
Alpha let me come into the corner store once. We didn't stay long, but sometimes you can intuit a whole universe with just one moment of sniffing the air. Have you been inside Mr. Joe's store -- even for just a moment? You know what I'm saying? Coffee beans - lots of different coffee beans. Nuts and chick peas. Hommus and tabbouleh. Olives. Some think there's only one smell to olives, but it takes only one whiff at Mr. Joe's store to tell you there's a big difference, say, between Greek and Lebanese olives. And sound. Usually some music coming out of the tv in the corner above the counter, but nothing like the music Alpha and She Who Must Be Obeyed play at home.
You don't see too many of these little stores any more -- the one up the hill has now become a coffee shop. But we pass a lot of the other kind of store on our trips up the Big Street. Some of them have parking lots. Some don't. Some are on corners. But you can always tell the difference between these stores and the ones like the one on our corner by whether the humanoids want to linger and savor time. They don't do this very often, our humanoids. And with the passing of these little stores, and the people who run them, I wonder where the humans will go to slow down their time -- or whether they'll ever learn why it's important.
See you in the park tomorrow. Take time to sniff the hydrants.
Zoscha