I’m catching up on puppy updates, but here’s a picture Julia took just yesterday.
His name is Max.
Max Arrow, Private Eye.
There are a thousand stories in the Naked Borough, and this is his.
Really. That’s his name, Max Arrow, Private Eye. He’s a regular on our block and, if I remember correctly, a rescue pup, although obviously greying a bit now. In keeping with the P.I. spirit, there are four things we can deduce about his owner…if you’d care to click the picture to enlarge:
- He works at Trader Joe’s.
- He’s married.
- He can’t hold a paring knife properly.
- He was kind enough to wait for Julia to snap the picture.
Nice fellow.
We were marching up to the town square in the hopes that ice cream could be found there. Fortunately, the new place, 709 West Avenue Cafe was open an hour past its posted closing time. There Ben and Julia each ate a bowl of ice cream larger than their heads. I had the coffee.
The Cafe, not to be confused with the West Avenue Grill across the street, opened a few months back and seems to be getting decent word-of-mouth. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the Cafe is in the same spot where the Grill started out almost a decade ago. Between the Cafe and Old Man Al’s Questionable Burgers, there’s something of an uptick in local eateries, which is great since Jenkintown Java’s preserved corpse is still sitting there off the square, waiting for a new tenant to step in and get the pots boiling again.