We often saw each other walking our dogs around the building where we both live. We’d offer nothing more than smiles and polite nods. But finally I introduced myself and my dogs. He opened his mouth wide and winced his eyes as if to squeeze out something more than incomprehensible gargle. After some seconds, I realized he was a stutterer. I stood patiently thinking since this was my first experience that it was probably more awkward for me than him. I recalled this moment after reading this story. The narrator reflects on a teacher in high school offering a moment of grace when he needed to back out of giving an oral report. In a fascinating note that follows the story, the writer mentions he is working on a series of “stutter” stories. Read it here in Foundling Review.
By the way, the gentleman’s name is Bob and so is his dog.