Every so often, a neighbor will post an alert for a missing house pet who has escaped. And with each alert, I wonder if today’s the day I’ll find that missing pet on my frequent neighborhood strolls.
Maybe it’s because I like brining joy to people. Maybe it’s because so little happens in my town that I need more excitement. Maybe it’s because everyone wants to be a hero at some point in their lives.
I’m out walking with my oldest daughter, and a beautiful white dove flies down and blocks our path.
It’s a little magical. It’s amusing and a little strange as the bird kindly stares at us.
I remember how earlier that day, I read an odd post about an escaped white dove–that’s actually a rock pigeon. This beloved bird named JoJo had owners who loved her and missed her. They left a phone number.
Who could ever find a missing bird? I mean, they have wings. They will fly, fly away.
Yet here JoJo sat.
I called the owners, and Sarah and I waited for them to arrive. We watched as they coaxed JoJo with various treats until they gathered her into their arms and brought her home.
Meanwhile, the whimsical evening stretched on. But Sarah and I were different: we were neighborhood heroes.