Letters

  I have lived in Ocean Ridge since 1988. Those years have been eventful. Once I opened my mail box to come face to face with a large red snake about twice the diameter of my wrist. With my heart pounding out of my chest, I slammed the door shut and ran to phone the police. I am not sure what they did, but the snake did not come back.
    While animal lover “Doc” was still on the police force my Chihuahua, Cutie Pie, got a lamb chop bone stuck in her mouth. I grabbed her and tried to drive to the vet. But AIA roadwork created an obstruction. With lights blinking and sirens screeching, Doc got us there and went back to his job. The veterinarian was able to remove the bone easily.
    Then, sad to say, I fell into the “gypsy trap” of a distraction burglary. I collected the insurance, but that did not compensate for the value of never-recovered family heirlooms. We might have done better if there were cameras photographing traffic on the island.
    The police continue to call when I forget to close my garage door at night. I profusely thank them for reminding me.
    Recently I have been contemplating moving a little west to a less expensive house. Then there was the knock on my door this morning. I had gone out last evening and checked the mailbox on my return. After clearing the box, I had the mail, a bag of groceries, my purse and my cell phone. I dumped a magazine in recycling and entered the house.
    Missing the mail, I went out to the recycle bin, but there was no mail there so I came back in. This morning there was a knock on my door. There stood the police chief with my mail in his hand while one of his officers collected the rest of the soggy letters from my front lawn.
    I think I am changing my mind about moving, as where else could I find people like that — and the rest of the office staff — to take care of me and protect me in my aging years?
Joyce Bruck
Ocean Ridge