I’ve learned a lesson in community building, brought to me, once again, by Gus, a creature of few but consuming passions. His favorite neighborhood store, besides Rainbow Meats where he often gets pork cracklings and marrow bones, is Pioneer Pet Feed and Supply. It’s run by the very affable David B. Word in the dog park is that David B. is our go-to guy.
The store features two fearless and funny cats, Ivar and Vito, who David B. captures in whimsical Facebook updates. Apparently, they have the run of the place, as does any well-behaved furry creature on a shopping spree. Despite an intimidating set of stairs that lead to his subterranean storefront, I wanted to hazard a visit. The stairs aren’t easily ramped, and there’s no obvious place for an elevator. Sent in alone and left to his own devices, Gus would return with a herd of reindeer antlers and a vat of strawberry chew toys and enough owl squeakies to ensure future annoyance. That’s why he never gets the credit card. But how to find him an escort?
Ask. And improvise.
I decided to employ what my friend, Andrea, calls the most underused technology: conversation. David B. immediately agreed to meet me on the street, after I explained that I use a wheelchair. We praised and admired Gus while he barked excitedly. We agreed that a breath of fresh air was most welcome. We joked about the apparatus that would be needed to lower me down to his retail space. Then the two of them went below for some serious sniff and selection time. I was happy to wait. I didn’t feel conspicuous. I didn’t feel ostracized. I felt understood.
David B is instantly trust-worthy. He does many good turns for the animal kingdom. He arranges for adoptions. He gives to shelters. He books a mobile vet, one willing to do nail trimming, a task I find tricky to manage. So I want to help him. With a few strategy sessions, we could document and advertise the incredible inclusive customer service he provides.
I chose to live in Pioneer Square because it has a complex, messy past. It’s been through many incarnations. Perhaps it can be one of the first historic areas to fully embrace inclusion. But retrofitting takes time and will and money. I push hard to get into places and make important points, and sometimes that fight is righteous and ground breaking. But sometimes, just sometimes, an inside-out approach works just fine. David B. brings his store to me, seated at the top of the stairs with Gus, waiting, expectantly, for a new treat.
I remember walking by this store with Gus when I “visited” in January. It was closed but I noticed those steep stairs. Looked intimidating to me , too. Glad there was a happy ending to your story and I look forward to meeting David B. when I’m out there next.
Great story, Randy. I’d like to meet David B when we visit. A ***** woof woof woof woof woof for the “Pioneers”
David B. is a shop owner who makes a neighborhood into a community, where everyone belongs. Thanks to you and Gus for introducing the kind of person who gives me hope. 🙂
Great stuff, Randy it’s so refreshing to always hear your take on things as a result of where you sit. I agree David is a lovely soul and his love for animals makes his pet store (which in most places are things of the past) as you say….”the go-to place” in the square. My only problem is always wanting to leave with Ivar and thereby providing a friend for Sherman.
Some days I feel like a latter-day (less virtuous!) Mr. Rogers trying my best to represent the people in my neighborhood. Thanks for the feedback from friends, near and far.