“Oh, I’m not actually from here, you know. I’m from—oh, you wouldn’t have heard of it, I suppose. It’s a very long way away.

“I’m just visiting to see all the sights, before they all—

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’ll be my head if my co-workers find out. You’ll forget it, won’t you? Briefly?”

“I’m a sort of watchdog, really. Fire watch is a job that takes dedication, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Not every dog can do it.

“Most watchdogs, they think it’s all about the barking, but they are very wrong. It’s about the watching and the waiting, and about being ready. If I barked every time a jogger went by, I’d lose my job.

“And then the moment comes. The smoke rises, the siren rings out, and then, as we say, the hose nose what to do next. Saving lives and homes, that’s what it’s all about.

“Boring? I suppose so, but I’ve got friends, you know. They come by with their owners and say hello on a pretty regular basis.

“It’s a good life, all in all. Steady work, very fulfilling; and, you know, emptying yourself in service to others is good for the soul.”

“I keep the water going, mostly. That’s what I do, water. It’s an important job, hydration, ask anybody. I help keep the lawns green, too, which is nice, since I have to look at them all day.

“Lonely? A bit, I suppose. I do have a lot of time on my hands. But I’ve learned to make good use of it.

“How? Poetry! I love a nice haiku. Would you like to hear one?

Flowing of water

Sanitation for our guests

I hold my nose high

“I’m looking for a publisher, but no bites yet.”

“Lived here long? I should say so. Been nearly a hundred years in this exact spot. It’s a nice neighborhood, low-turnover. Good place to settle down.

“Oh, I used to be a bit of a rover, you know. I grew up on the mountain side, respectable as anything, but I got a little wild in my teens. Turned into a real alluvial fanboy, I did, always waiting for the next big storm. When the the rain came down in torrents and you could feel the earth getting heavy around you, man, those were the days! And then, whoosh, down the slope you’d go, to a new neighborhood with new neighbors. That wasn’t every storm of course, but it was a thrill when it happened.

“How often? Oh, about every thirty years or so. There’d be a fire across the mountain, and we’d all start saying our goodbyes, waiting for the next winter’s mudslides and the next big adventure.

“I gotta tell you, it started to wear on me after a while. I’m not the stone I was when I was a kid, not anymore. No, this is better.

“Changes? Well, I suppose the biggest change I’ve seen since I settled here was when the bricks moved in. Back in the early ’60’s that was. I was standoffish at first—they looked so different, don’t you know, with that red color and the weird way they wear their mortar. But I take people as they come, mostly, and I’m glad to say they’ve been solid neighbors, every one of them. They’ve stood up for me, and I’ll stand up for them. That’s the way it is.”