He walked alone, the man in the blue coat. Slow. Deliberate. Slightly hunched, head down. He looked comfortable on the sand as if he’d been there many times before.

Scooby wants to greet everyone everywhere. But he especially loves to greet people and dogs on the beach. Sometimes he will run, no, he will gallop, full speed, hundreds of feet just to say hello for a brief moment. As if he absolutely had to say that hello.

Of course he did. Because he’s Scooby.

And keep in mind that hundreds of feet for a 20 1/2 year-old dog would be like miles for you and me. In other words, it’s a big run.

People throwing tennis balls stop and watch the Scoobs as he comes running. Dogs that have just fetched freshly thrown balls drop those balls and watch too. Because until you see Scooby run you just can’t understand.

He runs with purpose and with grace. There is a beauty to his stride. He runs fast but he is not in a race. And he always finds his own finish line.

And that finish line is his beginning. Because that’s where the greeting is.

He especially likes greeting the little kids because they sometimes have crumbs on their face or crackers in their pockets.

And as they bend over to pet him he slyly stretches his neck as far as he can until suddenly his face is inside a pocket looking for treats.

Or he delights a small child that’s kissing him when he kisses her back, purposefully licking the graham cracker crumbs from her cheeks at the same time.

Everyone is happy. The world is good.

Even the big kids trying to act like big kids always stop and drop when they hear how old he is and then they begin their own discussion about pets they have loved.

And in those moments the boy trying to act the toughest is the one giving Scoobs the most soft and gentle pets. Because he knows.

And as Scooby wanders off to his next sojourn the kids and the laughter continue behind. The tennis balls are once again thrown and fetched and returned. Everything is back to the way it was.

Except for the man in the blue coat.

We saw him in the distance walking toward us. A solitary figure. Drawing closer I could hear sounds coming from his direction. I think he was talking to someone.

Someone I could not physically see.

Scooby walked toward him to say hello but this man did not stop. He did not even slow. His hands did not leave his side. He saw Scooby but he continued walking. So Scooby quickened his pace with his mission to reach this man. And as he ran he had such a complete look of joy on his face.

He just so much wanted to say hello to this man in the blue coat.

But I could see this man did not want to be interrupted. He was on a mission too. Just as Scooby wanted to greet him, he wanted to be left alone.

We passed on the beach with the ocean as witness. Separated by only a few feet but it could have been miles.

We stopped and watched him walk on.

Although I never knew what the man was saying, the look on Scooby’s face tells me that he knew.

And that he understood why this man that he so desperately wanted to greet that day needed to be left alone.

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
— Leo Buscaglia

A reminder that we never walk alone. Not when Scooby’s there.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. Scooby Cares. thepongofund.org