verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Fenway Faithful

This is a rare moment for Buddy.  I caught him the other day without his Red Sox hoodie. Granted, it's way too hot to be wearing a Red Sox hoodie right now, but fans like Buddy don't often easily yield to the weather when it comes to matters of the Nation.  Nevertheless, Buddy's choice to forego his fan gear netted great results:  a whopping 14-1 victory over the Yankees.  (In case you didn't hear that quite right, let me repeat that score for you:  14-1). 

Buddy is the senior citizen of his circle.  A quiet old gent, he lives his days snoozing in between his sessions mentoring Remy, a very young Newfie pup who has recently joined the family.  This is Buddy's second Newfie so he's undaunted by the size difference, which is almost comical.  Guthrie, Buddy's original Newfie, passed away nearly a year ago.  Remy is keeping Buddy young-ish acting and puts the zip in his day.

In fact, Buddy sleeps so soundly that each time I go see him, I must nudge him awake, causing him to jump right up and, understandably, holler at me for waking him up.  After I gently remind him who I am and why I'm there, he gladly accepts my invitation to go cruise the 'hood and talk Sox.  We have a little ritual:  we go where he wants to go.  And nowhere else but there.  I love that about Buddy.  A dog of his convictions. 

Like my Grandfather, Buddy is no-nonsense when it comes to his way of life.  You know right where you stand, and you know exactly what the plan is going to be.  No doubt about it. But you also know what it takes to be among the Fenway Fathful and so you know that Buddy will never ever ever ever stop believeing in you, no matter how much you may startle his sleep.  That was my grandfather, and that is Buddy.  But unlike Gramp, Buddy saw the magic in 2004 and is no doubt whistling this morning thinking about last night's score (did I mention--14-1?) and those poor Yankees....

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