The other day (actually several years ago when I wrote the story I’m now telling you) a good friend sent me a video about an autistic boy. You know the plot: A person overcomes a handicap to accomplish something amazing, their achievement is celebrated and emotionally shared by lots of people, and the viewer sheds a lot of happy tears.
I just learned of an amazing story
Of a pet name Hachi who was an Akita that was from Japan
Now Hachi was rescued by a professor
They had a great relationship the two of them
Now every day when the professor would go off to work
He would take a train to get there
Haichi would go with him to the train station and the professor would get on the train
Than Hachi would go home and hear the whistle and wait for the train
And would go back to the station and would be there waiting for him when the professor
Dogs before the 19th century were largely functional, such as hunting, guard, and watch dogs. The Oxford Dictionary, in the oldest quotes in the oldest Proverbs and phrases, dogs were rarely depicted as faithful or as man’s best friend, but as vicious and aggressive hunting dogs.
You’re walking along the ocean shore in Truro, Massachusetts, and Cape Cod. You feel all alone in the world right now.
You went for a walk, to kind of gather yourself, but still, you feel alone.
The area in Truro is distant from the parking lots, so very few people ever venture out that far.
So you see no sun bathers. All you see are a few seagulls.
But basically you’re alone. Or are you?