Serendipity

Five years ago when we bought our current home, one of the occupants at the time was a wire-haired dachshund named Louie. Visible through the front window, he was guarding the place when we arrived with the real estate agent. A sign on the front door suggested we give him a dog treat when we got inside to assure us of being welcomed warmly. I promptly fell in love with the house, and the dog.

We came back to see the house twice more, and each time there was Louie, stretched out on the couch looking out the front window. More treats, more hugs. We bought the house but Louie did not convey, and so he was gone from our lives forever. Still, whenever we saw a dog like him, either Mitch or I would exclaim, "Look, there's a Louie dog!"

Yesterday as we were walking in downtown Portland sipping our lattes we saw one and said it. The lady walking him overheard us, slowed down, and said, "His name is Louie!" We then asked her name, and she turned out to be the former owner of our home who we had never met. It was the real Louie, and he was just as lovable, although admittedly a tad grayer around the muzzle.