This afternoon’s rain only enhanced the wistful wonder of this place on the block of West 70th between Broadway and West End, which for some reason isn’t part of my usual “route” (I deliver The Grit on my two-wheeler!) even though it serves an area that I frequent. I plan to incorporate it into my wanderings from now on, though, so I can gaze up at the top floor and imagine myself gazing down at this guy, who would be my neighbor:
This is Piggy, who will be 11 in December, whom I met just outside Cafe Luxembourg, where he was lounging at the feet of his dad, David, who was seated on a bench. Piggy’s name has nothing to do with his slight resemblance to our porcine friends, but because, David, says, he makes a lot of noise when he eats.
I asked David if the food was any good at the cafe, and he assured me it was. “Piggy eats here too, sometimes. He likes the hamburgers. We live right next door, so we’re here all the time.”
I smooshed Piggy for about five minutes non-stop. “Come back and see us anytime!” David said. I’d have to stop by in the winter, in particular, he said, when he pulls Piggy on a sled because the ice and snow bother his paws. “He trained me how to pull him on the sled, so of course I do it.”
I cannot wait for the snow, to swoon!
I would not cry if I had to live here – #1
I would not cry if I had to live here – #2
I would not cry if I had to live here – #3
I would not cry if I had to live here – #4