It takes a village, for some; while, others, a continent

When I was very young, I had two nicknames. The first, Miss Perpetual Motion. From the moment I woke up, I was on the go until I would fall sound asleep wherever I happened to run out of steam. I'd sleep anywhere, at the dinner table, on the floor reading, while playing a game. I was out!

The second nickname was Miss Independent. My constant retort was: "I can (and will) do it myself!"

Both my energy and fierce independence have been my stalwarts most of my life. But as I have recently learned, sometimes Mugsy and I need help (or saving), and luckily, I have friends and neighbors that come to the rescue.

Twice over the past few months, Mugsy escaped through a gap in our fence. He was once rescued by one set of neighbors and their dog, Oscar, who was able to entice Mugsy back to our yard, and the second time, another group of neighbors went the extra mile and added a wood slat to the gate to seal up his escape hatch. During Mugsy's escapades, the neighbors provided me with texts and calls relaying his status while I was at the restaurant, taking orders and clearing dishes. Mugsy and I thank you all!

During the recent cold snap, I closed Mugsy's access to the backyard. I planned to run home during the break between lunch and dinner service to let him out and give him treats and attention. However, we had a late lunch customer, and I was not able to leave. My neighbor Gail came to the rescue and let my desperate dog out. Twice that week, I had to call on her to help with Mugsy.

I like to say it's Mugsy that needs the village, but in retrospect, I'm just as needy. While bringing in my usual stash of sodas, wine, laundered napkins, briefcase, etc., from my car last Friday, I was a little more scattered than usual. As I slammed the car door shut, I noticed that I had locked my keys in the car. I momentarily considered breaking the window to retrieve them rather than confess to anyone that I did something that careless.

Again, friends to the rescue. A neighbor called to make a reservation for that night, and I asked if she could stop at my house on the way to bring my extra set of keys. Of course, she did, and my car was saved from a lot of broken glass.

Most recently, some friends dropped by last Sunday to deliver a pumpkin to us and say "hi." They mentioned that when they walked past the restaurant earlier in the day, they noticed our "sandwich board" was out on the sidewalk. They hoped it was OK that they pulled it onto the covered patio since we were closed. It should have been brought inside the restaurant after closing the night before, but evidently, I forgot. I immediately took a quick drive over to the café to move the board inside.

With all I have on my plate, the café, my "day" job, the garden, the house, laundry duty for us and the restaurant, I have succumbed to the reality that I need a village at a minimum, and so grateful that my Waitsburg friends are filling that need. Then, add Mugsy to the mix, and we need an entire continent to watch over us.