This past week I saw something amazing happen. And I'd like to share it with you.
This, my friends, is Rocco.

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Rocco belongs to a neighbor of mine. He lives on the next block and his name is Roger. He's
a quiet, unassuming, older guy. He has a fairly thick accent and has had a stroke so he is a bit
hard to understand. He lives very frugally and he loves Boxers. He lives on a low fixed income.
They have tried to get Roger to go into a place that will care for him. But, he is fiercely independant
and all he has is his furbaby. I think he does just fine, considering he is all alone.

Roger and Rocco walk the blocks of Northwood, in West Palm Beach, and everyone knows who they are. Rocco isa rescued dog, so was already grown when Roger got him. So his love for running when he gets free is a problem for Roger. Who tries to be very careful, but can't run anymore to catch him.

Roger is the neighborhood dog walker and will walk your dog while you work. No one worries cause Rocco is the only dog who ever got away from him. Usually Rocco heads for the local dog park.

Four days ago, Roger, frantically knocked on our door. It took us a few minutes to get to the door.
Roger was despondent, Rocco got away and was not at the park. Roger got rides to look for Rocco,
by us and others. The guy across the street walked his own dog looking for days for Rocco.

Now here's the good part. In addition to dozens and dozens of our community looking for Rocco, I
saw a side of my neighborhood I didn't think existed. Strangers looked for Rocco. It was posted on
Twitter, Facebook, Google, you name it. It was shared by a whole gang of strangers on these media
sites. I was shocked. After three days, I was afraid that Rocco was gone. We were in the front yard when we saw Roger with Rocco, on a triple leash. Not the best of contraptions, but the best Roger could do not to lose him. Boxers have no head to hold their collars on and his just slips off. So he needs a harness.

Rocco had been found on Facebook! Imagine that! People who don't even know other people, shared and looked for this dog. It made me feel that the power of social media is not all bad. Without it, Rocco might never have been found. He spent three days being taken care of by people quite a ways from his home. Roger was beaming and Rocco was behaving. People on Facebook are human, they care and they made a difference.

We all worried about Roger and knew without Rocco, he might give up. Thanks to all who helped find Rocco...people looking out for other people is just plain refreshing!!!

Me, I am gonna find Rocco the best harness I can buy for Roger, so his "baby" never gets away again. 

When I first moved to Florida, I thought I'd love it. No more six months of snow. crazy New York drivers where I moved from.. Less expenses, cheaper houses, and that well known Southern hospitality. Palm trees and snorkeling, aqua ocean waters and wearing that new bathing suit I thought I looked so hot in.

When I drove into West Palm Beach, it was January 4th. The temperature was a humid eighty five degrees and we didn't have an air conditioned car. Little feelers of anxiety started that day. We were lucky enough to have friends to stay with until our first apartment came through. Let's just say, I borrowed the neighbors cat to catch the mice that arrived by way of under the refrigerator somehow.

That was something I was not used to, but hey it beats the hell out of a palmetto bug. Monster cockroaches...My  neighbor said that you are only a real Floridian when you can stomp one with your bare foot. I remain a Vermonter at heart, that's home, and I will never stomp one of those four inch nightmares with my bare foot.

No one ever told me how hot it was here. So hot that by the time you get from your front door to your car, you look as if you'd just bathed and forgot to towel dry.

Then I got a look at some of the older people who'd spent so much time tanning to look just like they'd spent their time in paradise, soaking up the sun. They had the wrinkles to prove it. Really bad wrinkles, like that old Indian Dustin Hoffman portrayed in a movie I can't remember the name of. No one warned me that if I waved hello like we did in Vermont. That people would act as if I was a nut. But the thing that bothered me the most was gardening. I loved my vegetable garden up North. I even used to sell my organic, luscious, tomatoes, to a health food store. I figured if most of the tomatoes in winter were grown in Florida. I would have bumper crops. Unfortunately, no matter when I planted, or what I did, they just never flourished for me. Tomatoes from Florida just ain't the same as the ones I used to grow.
                      
I have a yard that is a jungle of Palm trees, Bromiliads, ferns, and all the plants that
used to be in my living room up North. They are just as beautiful, but in a different way.
Could there be nothing I could grow, that would feel like home?

One day I happened upon a local place that grew peach trees. Yeah right I thought,
The guy assured me it would grow. The peaches would be smaller, but they would
come. That was about eight years ago. I tended and watered the plant, talking to it,
watching it grow into a tree, a tree with no peaches.

One day while I was checking for bugs, which are a big problem here, I saw them
above me. I blinked my eyes, maybe I was seeing things? But, there they were, real peaches, small, but there! I picked one it felt ripe, and the juices ran down my chin as I ate the three bite fruit and held a small pit in my hand.

Real peaches! Wow! And that day I felt at home, not as at home as in Vermont, but home nonetheless. Who woulda thought it, that a simple thing like a small fruit could make me get it.Home is were peaches grow. And peaches grow in Florida...