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| F LoBuono |
Christmas, 2017, dawned to reveal a pristine coat of freshly fallen snow. There wasn't a lot of it - just a dusting - but, enough to lend some magic to the day. It would be a White Christmas after all - at least for awhile - until the City's detritus turned it a fine shade of gray.
It was going to be a long day. For virtually all of the last 15 years I have worked at CBS News on Christmas Day. It's just the way it is. News never stops and someone has to do it. But, since my schedule was 4pm-12am, I would have time to stop by my sister's place to wish her, my mother, and brother a Merry Christmas before I had to head into work. So, I left my apartment around 1:30 to get my sisters by 2 which would allow me to spend on hour with them before the final leg of my journey.
After a pleasant interlude, I was on my way hoping that I wouldn't be crushed in the Holiday traffic at the George Washington Bridge - the busiest bridge in the world - which is a regular occurrence during the season. Much to my delight, it wasn't bad - heavy, but moving. And, furthering my euphoria, the West Side Highway, often the world's longest parking lot, was virtually empty. I made it in record time.
Work is work but no one should pity me for working on Christmas. CBS takes good care of me with a healthy paycheck and a hardy meal. Besides, the people I work with are my family, too. So, in a sense, I get the best of both worlds; time with my immediate family as well as my work ones. And, as fate would have it, it was a relatively slow news night - nothing blowing up, nothing burning down. Even the President had nothing inane to tweet about. It was just the usual Holiday stories that we run every year: bad weather and crowded airports.
Then, things started to get interesting.
First, my midnight relief was going to be a half-hour late. OK. It happens. At least, it would be after mom, pop, and the kids were long in bed after Christmas dinner at grandma's. And, so, the drive home would be smooth. Or, so I thought. I was flying as I made my turn off of 57th and onto the north bound West Side Highway. Clear sailing all the way - until it wasn't. Once I reached the 96th St. exit, all cars came to a screeching halt. Up ahead, near 135th St., I noticed the flashing red lights of at least 2 police cars. I quickly turned on the radio to get a traffic report. Less then a minute later I heard this: Avoid the northbound West Side Highway. The police are on the scene of a multi-vehicle accident. Great - just past the last exit until the Bridge. I was stuck. After 10 or 15 minutes or so, the clog of vehicles began to break up and we inched forward. After clearing the wreckage, it was an easy go up to and over the GWB.
After about 15 minutes of smooth sailing up the Palisades Interstate Parkway, I made my turn onto the last leg of my journey - and, my favorite part. Route 9W is an old, two-lane road that cuts into the mighty Palisades high above the Hudson River. The maximum speed is about 45 mph which is fine - better for enjoying the spectacular scenery. Because the road cuts through wooded areas, it is often crawling with deer - especially in the wee hours of the morning - like it was this Christmas night. In fact, it had become early on the day AFTER Christmas.
About 2 miles or so from my apartment, sailing along at the speed limit (45 MPH), I noticed something small walking in the road ahead. I naturally assumed that it was a small deer. After all, I've seen hundreds of them in my years of driving this road. But, as I got closer I noticed that it wasn't a deer at all. It was a small dog - and, it was right in the middle of the highway! This just wouldn't do. I put my flashers on and pulled over near the dog. Now, I was close enough to see that it was a small, female boxer. She was a bit skittish but let me approach her. I called out to her saying, "hi there, little girl. What are you doing out by yourself on this bitter cold night?" Her little stubby tail was wagging away. She let me get close enough to see that she was not wearing a collar. I thought to myself that I couldn't just leave her there. That might be a death sentence. So, without too much effort I coaxed her into my truck. She was just the sweetest little thing. She made herself right at home, even nudging my arm with her nose from the back seat.
When we got to my apartment she ran in without much hesitation. Obviously, this little gal was well cared for and loved. She was just too sweet to be a stray. I set her up with a bowl of water and some dog food that I use when I have my own guy, Rexie, stay with me. After chowing down with great enthusiasm, she settled down on my living room rug. I then preceded to call the 3 police precincts that may have had jurisdiction where I found her. They were all very helpful but also said that they had no reports of a missing dog fitting that description. Of course, they took my information saying that if anyone should call looking for her, they would give it to them.
My new friend and I settled in for the night - me on my living room couch and she on the rug. I was fully prepared to board her for the night and deal with finding her owner further in the morning when my cell phone rang. It was not a number I was familiar with. It just HAD to be the owner. And, sure enough, it was! He explained to me that she and her companion had "escaped" from his yard and he managed to capture just one. The other, who I now had in my possession, had eluded apprehension and her name was Coco. I told him that she was doing just fine and gave him my address. He responded that he was just in the next town and could be there in 5-10 minutes.
When he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, I placed Coco on the leash that I use for Rexie and walked her to his truck. Sean, as I found was his name, was with the other dog who had engineered the escape. You should have seen the reaction of all 3! It was obvious that there was much love there. Sean thanked me profusely, placed Coco in his truck and they drove away - one, big, happy, reunited family. And, I might add, it might me feel pretty damned good, too.
It wasn't a big thing to do. In fact, it was easy and I'm sure that most of you would have done the same thing. But, as I keep writing, it's not the BIG things that make the world a better place. It's the LITTLE things that we do on a daily basis that keep the world heading in the right direction. For me, it was a mitzvah - the Yiddish term for doing good deeds. The fact that it all went down on Christmas struck me as pleasantly ironic. But, then again, Christ was a Jew and, after all, he IS the reason for the season.
Work is work but no one should pity me for working on Christmas. CBS takes good care of me with a healthy paycheck and a hardy meal. Besides, the people I work with are my family, too. So, in a sense, I get the best of both worlds; time with my immediate family as well as my work ones. And, as fate would have it, it was a relatively slow news night - nothing blowing up, nothing burning down. Even the President had nothing inane to tweet about. It was just the usual Holiday stories that we run every year: bad weather and crowded airports.
Then, things started to get interesting.
First, my midnight relief was going to be a half-hour late. OK. It happens. At least, it would be after mom, pop, and the kids were long in bed after Christmas dinner at grandma's. And, so, the drive home would be smooth. Or, so I thought. I was flying as I made my turn off of 57th and onto the north bound West Side Highway. Clear sailing all the way - until it wasn't. Once I reached the 96th St. exit, all cars came to a screeching halt. Up ahead, near 135th St., I noticed the flashing red lights of at least 2 police cars. I quickly turned on the radio to get a traffic report. Less then a minute later I heard this: Avoid the northbound West Side Highway. The police are on the scene of a multi-vehicle accident. Great - just past the last exit until the Bridge. I was stuck. After 10 or 15 minutes or so, the clog of vehicles began to break up and we inched forward. After clearing the wreckage, it was an easy go up to and over the GWB.
After about 15 minutes of smooth sailing up the Palisades Interstate Parkway, I made my turn onto the last leg of my journey - and, my favorite part. Route 9W is an old, two-lane road that cuts into the mighty Palisades high above the Hudson River. The maximum speed is about 45 mph which is fine - better for enjoying the spectacular scenery. Because the road cuts through wooded areas, it is often crawling with deer - especially in the wee hours of the morning - like it was this Christmas night. In fact, it had become early on the day AFTER Christmas.
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| COCO |
About 2 miles or so from my apartment, sailing along at the speed limit (45 MPH), I noticed something small walking in the road ahead. I naturally assumed that it was a small deer. After all, I've seen hundreds of them in my years of driving this road. But, as I got closer I noticed that it wasn't a deer at all. It was a small dog - and, it was right in the middle of the highway! This just wouldn't do. I put my flashers on and pulled over near the dog. Now, I was close enough to see that it was a small, female boxer. She was a bit skittish but let me approach her. I called out to her saying, "hi there, little girl. What are you doing out by yourself on this bitter cold night?" Her little stubby tail was wagging away. She let me get close enough to see that she was not wearing a collar. I thought to myself that I couldn't just leave her there. That might be a death sentence. So, without too much effort I coaxed her into my truck. She was just the sweetest little thing. She made herself right at home, even nudging my arm with her nose from the back seat.
When we got to my apartment she ran in without much hesitation. Obviously, this little gal was well cared for and loved. She was just too sweet to be a stray. I set her up with a bowl of water and some dog food that I use when I have my own guy, Rexie, stay with me. After chowing down with great enthusiasm, she settled down on my living room rug. I then preceded to call the 3 police precincts that may have had jurisdiction where I found her. They were all very helpful but also said that they had no reports of a missing dog fitting that description. Of course, they took my information saying that if anyone should call looking for her, they would give it to them.
My new friend and I settled in for the night - me on my living room couch and she on the rug. I was fully prepared to board her for the night and deal with finding her owner further in the morning when my cell phone rang. It was not a number I was familiar with. It just HAD to be the owner. And, sure enough, it was! He explained to me that she and her companion had "escaped" from his yard and he managed to capture just one. The other, who I now had in my possession, had eluded apprehension and her name was Coco. I told him that she was doing just fine and gave him my address. He responded that he was just in the next town and could be there in 5-10 minutes.
When he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, I placed Coco on the leash that I use for Rexie and walked her to his truck. Sean, as I found was his name, was with the other dog who had engineered the escape. You should have seen the reaction of all 3! It was obvious that there was much love there. Sean thanked me profusely, placed Coco in his truck and they drove away - one, big, happy, reunited family. And, I might add, it might me feel pretty damned good, too.
It wasn't a big thing to do. In fact, it was easy and I'm sure that most of you would have done the same thing. But, as I keep writing, it's not the BIG things that make the world a better place. It's the LITTLE things that we do on a daily basis that keep the world heading in the right direction. For me, it was a mitzvah - the Yiddish term for doing good deeds. The fact that it all went down on Christmas struck me as pleasantly ironic. But, then again, Christ was a Jew and, after all, he IS the reason for the season.
This made me smile, Frank, thank you!
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