The Posh Paw Blog

While I’m off chasing a little sunshine and sanity, enjoy a few of my favorite past Daily twirls – still true, still sassy and worth a second spin. See you soon….

It was one of those Cambridge afternoons where the sky can’t quite make up its mind. Sunshine teasing through clouds one moment, drizzle pattering the pavement the next. I was walking back from town, arms full of groceries, hair frizzing, and my polka-dot umbrella doing its absolute best to turn inside out.

That’s when I saw him — the man with the red umbrella.

Now, before you imagine some sweeping cinematic moment, let me clarify: he was easily in his late 70s, had a walking cane, wore a navy blazer with brass buttons, and had the kind of umbrella that clearly cost more than anything I was carrying. But what caught me wasn’t the umbrella — it was the moment.

He was standing near the crossing by the Fitzwilliam Museum. I’d just missed the light, juggling my tote bags like a circus act, when he stepped forward and said, “May I walk with you? My umbrella’s more reliable than yours.”

It wasn’t flirtatious. It wasn’t awkward. It was kind.

We crossed the street together, and I adjusted my pace to match his. He asked what was in my bags. I told him — coffee beans, oat milk, raspberries on sale. He nodded approvingly at the raspberries. “The best ones are always slightly overripe,” he said, “Just like people. That’s when the flavor’s richest.”

And I kid you not, — I nearly dropped my oat milk just from how poetic that sounded.

We didn’t walk far. Maybe five or six minutes, tops. He asked if I was a student. I laughed and said I used to be, now I just write, dance, and spend too much time talking to pets that don’t answer back. He smiled, and said, “That sounds like a fine education to me.”

When we reached the corner where our paths split, he handed me a card — not for business, just a small square of cardstock with a quote on it:

“Be the reason someone believes in unexpected kindness.”

No name. No number. Just that.

Then, with a soft nod and a tip of his elegant umbrella, he disappeared down the path, slow and steady.

I don’t know who he was. I haven’t seen him again. But that little moment — his unexpected generosity, the warmth of that tiny walk, the card now tucked in the corner of my mirror — it reminded me how deeply powerful the smallest kindness can be.

We never know how far a little shade from the rain might reach.
And I hope, wherever he is, that someone’s holding an umbrella for him today.

Stay fabulous,
Luce 💋

Like what you read? Darling, this is just the beginning.

Psst… if you liked this, you might want to swing by Luce’s Corner this Sunday at 9 a.m. — subscribers get a little something extra. Just between us.