The Beard and The Yellow Dog................

I call him The Beard. He posts up every day. A small white guy. Beard that runs clear up to his cheek bones, to just under his eyes. Hair the same length as the beard, coarse, thick, a couple inches in length. A hairline that most men would have envied in their 20's. The overall effect, the end result, is like a reverse mask. All you get is a 3 or 4 inch strip running horizontally across his face. A pair of eyes peering out from a carpet of dirty dark hair. I see him late in the morning, early afternoon, on my way to pick up my route for the night. He spends his time at the base of the North 435 and  Front street off ramp. It's impossible to tell his age. Maybe 30, 40, could even be my age, 50's?  Normally he would be just another guy with a sign begging for money. There is no shortage of seemingly able bodied men standing on various street corners, holding a beat up cardboard sign. The messages rarely if ever phase me. I normally have a " Too lazy to work, Too scared to steal" opinion of these guys. Disdain, scorn, isn't really what comes to mind, doesn't really describe my attitude for the many homeless beggars throughout the metro. I'd say it's indifference. You can afford to be indifferent when you are on the outside looking in. Sitting in the climate controlled interior of your car, shit seems to be black and white like that. Fuck em, it aint my problem.

The last couple of weeks this guy has peeled about 30 bucks from my meager bankroll. He has an ace in the hole. A trump card. A yellow dog, a Chow mix.  He keeps him on a leash fashioned from what looks like clothesline rope. The dog is plump, well fed, seemingly cleaner than his owner. On sunny or rainy days an old floral patterned umbrella serves as shade or shelter for the dog, while his owner stands or sits in the open. Opposing corners at the same intersection are the chosen spots for a 50 or 60 something man and woman couple, on another is a 20 something guy holding a homeless vet sign. A few times a week an older man  in a wheelchair with his legs or at least one leg amputated at the knee. I've honestly never looked long or close enough to recall if it's one leg or two. The signs all say pretty much the same thing. WILL WORK FOR FOOD, but not really. The signs always end in a God Bless, even though I have my doubts that a God is doling out very many blessings to any of these people.  That kind of shit never has had much weight with me.  But throw in a dog, and I'll usually break weak, drag a few bucks out of my tired pocket.

So I was driving along the other night kind of chewing on the why's and wherefores of it all. How is it a yellow dog trumps a homeless vet or a guy missing a leg, maybe two?  I'm thinking I must be one of those people who care more about dogs than people.   Another 100 miles or so of pondering and I think I figured it out. I think it all comes down to being able to identify, find some common  ground. This guy with the dog, I can identify with him on at least some level. I figure that dog helps keep the guys powder dry. What I mean to say, the dog keeps the guy in line. I don't know if he has a drinking problem, but it's a pretty safe bet he does. Drinking problem or not, he can't get too out of control lest he end up in jail, and would be separated , probably forever from the yellow dog. That dog is all this guy has. If he steps off the edge, loses his grip, the dog ends up without him, or vice versa , both.  I figure the dog is what keeps this guy alive. So the next time I see them standing in their little gravel and glass shard paved spot I pass a bag of Pedigree out the window along with a fin for the guy. Funny thing, the dog food cost more than the 5 spot I gave the guy.

Don't get me twisted, this isn't a self aggrandizing masturbatory piece where I sit here stinking up the room with my self congratulatory farts all because I gave some hobo a couple hours pay over the course of a month. There are countless equally and more deserving that I won't ever give a second glance. This isn't a lesson in helping your fellow man, or giving a hand up to the weak and down trodden.  I'm thinking out loud, with an audience.

I actually started this post a couple weeks ago.  I got in a pattern of starting to write something, then part way through I'd hit a wall or lose interest.  So I'm picking up where I left off. This past week has come and gone without the beard and his yellow dog posting up at their spot. I can't help but wonder where they have gone, what's become of them. The corner is now occupied by a steady stream of men and a couple of women, ragged cardboard signs, picking up where the previous needy types left off. Maybe the Beard got smart, headed out west or down south, a warmer climate. Maybe he lost his grip and ended up in a jail. I've had a coat and a bag of dog food in my back seat for a week now.  I want to get this guys story. Not necessarily to write about, just to satisfy my own curiosity.  I've often wondered how someone comes to that place in life. You drop all pretense of pride, set yourself up to be alternately looked upon with disdain or ignored all together. A popular point of view is that these people like living like this. Hell I've been of that opinion myself. Winter is coming on, Kansas City winters can be harsh. It's hard to swallow that anyone would enjoy living in the streets this time of year.  So I'm going to give this story a temporary ending. The Beard and the Yellow Dog are basking in the Florida sunshine. Living the life.  If he ever shows back up on that corner, Ill be sure and ask. Until then, I like my ending, it's probably a lot nicer than the reality.

**The photo at the top of the post isn't The Beard, but it's pretty close to how he and the Yellow Dog look.**