I'm reading Alexander McCall Smith's Love Over Scotland (NY: Random House, 2006) now, and love this passage in which he comments on the reunion of lonely artist Angus Lordie with his constant companion Cyril, a dog stolen from him at "their" bar in Edinburgh, where Cyril daily laps a saucer of beer as Angus daily drinks his pint: when Cyril is found and returned to Angus, he whoops with delight and jumps into Angus's arms, and the narrator says,
And they were silent for a moment, as were many in the bar who had witnessed the reunion, for they had all seen something which touched them to a greater or lesser extent. And at least some felt as if they had been vouchsafed a vision of an important truth: that we must love one another, whatever our condition in life, canine or otherwise, and that this love is a matter of joy, a privilege, that we might think about, weep over, when the moment is right (p. 205).
That sounds about right to me: We must love one another, whatever our condition in life, canine or otherwise, and . . . this love is a matter of joy, a privilege.
Cyril has a gold tooth that gleams when he smiles, by the way. The drawing of him is by Iain McIntosh, illustrator of the book.
