Nor sleet or snow will keep a mailman from his appointed rounds. And I don’t want to hear anyone yelling how I’m sexist because I said mailman. My mail carrier is a man. Years ago I used to have a woman, Lorraine. She delivered mail when my dog was a pup so Nicky grew up knowing her. She’d come in the gate and he’d go running to greet her. She’d pet him, deliver our mail and move on to the next house. And you thought all mail carriers and dogs hated each other.
Lorraine was the best mail carrier we ever had. I always knew it was her day off, not because I saw a substitute but because on that day, the mail was messed up. We all missed her when she left us, even Nicky. We had a long line of horrible mail carriers. And then Bob came along. Finally we had someone to equal Lorraine.
Then one day, Bob went well beyond the scope of his job. He could have just delivered the mail and went on his merry way but that’s not how he rolls. One day he noticed our elderly neighbor hadn’t been taking in her mail. He told me and another neighbor and we, in turn, called the police. Our neighbor had fallen and broken her hip. If Bob had simply done his job, no one would have known to check on her. As it was, several days had passed since she first fell. Bob saved her life.
I think I hit the jackpot with mail carriers – first a dog lover and then a hero. My UPS guy, though? Well that’s another story entirely. As a matter of fact, I believe I’ve blogged about him. Five years later, he’s still throwing packages but he’s added a new trick. If the box is really heavy and he can’t throw it, he puts it in front of my door. Directly in front. As in, I cannot open my front door. I think Bob needs to teach him a few things.
