On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up at my normal time and took my dog, a beautiful golden retriever named "Pippen" for our daily playtime in Central Park. We played ball for a while and when I called him to go back on the leash to go home he wouldn't come. When I walked toward him with the leash he ran away and went further into the park.
He never did that.
I chased him around, getting more and more agitated as he made me late for work. After about 30 min he finally came back. I put him on the leash and walked back to my apartment with steam coming out of my ears.
I jumped in and out of the shower and as I was getting dressed I heard the news report on my TV that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Still rushing to get to work- and still pissed- I finished getting dressed while paying a lot of attention to the TV. The subway I usually rode to work passed right under the Towers and I wanted to know whether I needed to ride the other line that would drop me a little bit further from my office.
After a few minutes the second plane hit the other tower and I realized what was happening. I looked at Pippen and he looked back as if to say "you're welcome" (ok I'm sure I imagined how he looked back, but that's how it felt 😂).
I often think about each of the dogs I've been blessed to have in my life. But on 9/11 I always have special thoughts of Pippen.
When 9/11 comes around all of us think about Riley and all of the wonderful dogs that were working to rescue people down at the WTC site. And of course we should. But I just wanted to let you know about another very special guy that was 100 blocks north who may also have saved a life.
RIP Pippen. And thank you 🙏🏾.