25 years ago:
I spent years as a home health nurse, traveling the back roads of two counties in backwoods Mississippi. Patients were scattered over a wide area, but I had found a short cut between two settlements, a rutted dirt road in a remote area. The only thing about the short cut was having to cross over a rude plank bridge that was so flimsy the planks rattled and I could picture the planks cracking and my car falling through into the creek below.

One day I got there and a sign was posted "Bridge Closed." I turned around and down the road, saw a white haired woman at her mailbox in front of a decrepit house. This was the only house along that lonesome road. It looked to have been made from heart pine and cypress planks that had aged into a dark gray. Azalea bushes had grown thick and tall as the house. An old Ford was nearly hidden with weeds. I had no idea anyone lived there.

Curious, I drove up and introduced myself, told her who my parents were etc. (That's how you get accepted down south.)The woman, Nola, said the county had put up the sign to try to keep log trucks off the bridge. As we spoke, I saw a shaggy old dog standing next to Miss Nola. It's eyes were white with blindness.
I asked if I could have a glass of water. Miss Nola said come in and we went in the house. She held the door open and said come on, Jack Boy, and the dog limped in and lay down under a table.

Miss Nola had a hand pump by the back door, and pumped a glass of water for me. Pristine water from an underground spring. It was the best water I have ever tasted and I told her so.
Miss Nola had no television or telephone; a radio and an oil lamp sat on the table. She was frail, with bruising on her arms and legs. She had no family to care for her. But there was such a noble dignity and self possession about her. Her personality radiated with it.
ME:How do you get to town for groceries?
MISS NOLA:Since the Ford gave out on me, I leave a list in the mailbox, and the mailman drops it off in town at the grocer's. His son brings the things I need out here to me.
ME:Have you thought about moving into the settlement? Things would be a lot easier for you.
MISS NOLA: I've been falling a lot, and know I'll have to go in a nursing home soon, but no one would want to take in an old dog, so I won't leave until Jack Boy is gone. The dog, hearing his name, lifted his head and feebly thumped his tail on the floor.
She said even though he's blind, he knows every inch of this house; he hardly ever bumps into anything.
The old dog got up and limped over to Miss Nola and lay down and laid his head on her foot. She reached down and patted the top of his head and was rewarded with some more weak tail wagging thumps.

I was astonished this woman would sacrifice what would have been a better life for her for the sake of a dog. I have never met anyone like her before or since. I think about her and as I grow older, and respect her memory even more.

susil