It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

We're lucky to have fantastic neighbors here in Pittsburgh. There's a mother-son duo on the right side of the house. Maureen is incredibly friendly, and so is her 20-something son, DJ. I don't get to talk to them as much as I'd like. They're in and out a lot, having jobs and all.

On the left side of the house, we have Joe, a deaf, 80-something man with his equally aging, but no less loud and smelly beagle, Penny. I see Joe and Penny a lot more.

Kevin introduced himself to Joe first. Joe was taking Penny for a short walk down the street to a grassy area next to the old folks home, where, he informed Kevin, "Penny likes to do her business." Joe also made sure to warn him about the poison ivy apparently growing across the street.

I met Joe a few days later, as Kevin and I were walking back from a dinner out to celebrate our first week in our new home. Joe was walking Penny again to her favorite pee spot. He warned me about the poison ivy, too.

"What's your name," Joe asked me.

"Mandy," I said.

Joe looked confused, almost angry. "What?" he said.

"Mandy!" I said, a little louder.

"Mandy!" Kevin said.

Joe still looked confused. I decided to change tactics.

"Amanda!" I said.

"Ben? Who's Ben?" Joe said.

Kevin and I looked at each other.

"You know what," Joe said. "I'm not gonna worry about it. You'll be around for a while, right?"

"Yes!" I said.

"OK then."

He walked away with Penny, who was eager to do her business after exhausting herself jumping all over Kevin and me. That was my first introduction to her smell.

I ran into Joe again a few days later. He stopped to talk to me. We tried again with my name, but it didn't work. Mandy was apparently too exotic for him to recognize. He didn't learn my name until he accidentally got a piece of our mail and saw it on the envelope. He came knocking at our door, he gave my mail to me, and we started talking.

He told me his right ear became deaf in the Navy. He was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time when a gun went off. He told me about his favorite spaghetti restaurant downtown and how Penny loves to eat spaghetti too. We talked about lots of things. Eventually, he left, but I felt less lonely.

A few days later, we ran into each other again.

"You know," he said. "You're something else."

I was a little wary. This could be bad.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"No matter how bad I'm feeling, when I see you smile, it always makes me feel better."

How do you not like somebody who says stuff like that, even if his dog does smell really, really bad.

He asked when I was getting married.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know!?"

"I don't! You'll have to ask Kevin."

Joe looked disgruntled. He said I shouldn't let Kevin take advantage of me, that if he didn't marry me soon, Joe would consider me fair game. "You tell him Joe said so," he said.

"I'll tell you what," he said on another occasion. "You wait until after the spring. Then we'll go to Kennywood. If you take me to Kennywood, I'll let you hold my hand."

On another occasion, he said, "We'll go get spaghetti at this place downtown. It's the best spaghetti in town."

A few days later, he gave me a stuffed lion. He said the lion would protect me. I was touched. I had to wash it because it smelled like Penny, but I was touched.

Then one day, he came over and gave me two paper towel rolls. He had bought one of the big economy size packages, and he figured "a woman can always use more paper towels. And these are the best kind." He uses them to clean up after Penny because she "dribbles." That explained the smell.

You just gotta love Joe.