This evening I went to a grad party at my next-door neighbors' home. The youngest of their two sons is heading off to college next fall. From what I gather, he'll be successful in college and has a nice scholarship to help him along. I'm happy for him and his parents.
We've been neighbors for about 15 years. They host a fair number of family gatherings. Sometimes when I see a bunch of cars in the driveway, and one of them belongs to the mother of the wife, I mix myself a cocktail and walk over there.
About 10 years ago, K—the boys' grandmother and mom of my neighbor—gave me a standing invitation to come over to her daughter's house for drinks whenever K was visiting.
It all started when the family went on vacation. Sheila and I were taking care of their dog, April. They asked that we stop by several times a day to feed and let April outside in their fenced-in yard.
Well, that got old—walking back and forth several times a day. So Sheila and I brought April over to stay in our house all week. Our dogs got along with April, and she liked our self-serve doggy door.
Midweek, K texted me. "I am at the house. Where is April??"
April was sleeping on my living room floor, her head resting on my foot, when I replied to K: "Sheila and I figured April would be happier staying with us and our dogs instead of being home alone. (I didn't add that my laziness was also a factor.)
And that is why K treats us like family.














