By Jim Hagarty
I have never met Justin Bieber.
My kids attended the same high school where he went. There is still a class photo on a wall there with the now-famous musical icon pictured with all his classmates.
Last fall, he trick or treated on our street. Didn’t make it all the way down to our house, as far as I know. But I drove down the street that night and saw trick or treaters at a house. I found out later he was among them.
I would like someday to have the privilege of meeting the young man who set the musical world on fire a few years ago and still does. Maybe we could jam. We could play each other’s guitars. We both play left handed. I don’t think it will happen. I am very busy, being retired and not famous.
The next best thing, I guess, was the day I met his dog.
A young woman at the end of our street used to dog sit for Justin when his grandparents were away and unavailable to do it. I met her a time or two out walking. She told me about it.
Then one day I saw her go by, a little dog in tow.
“This is Sammy,” she said. I introduced myself to the little pooch. He was a sweetie (or she, I am not sure.)
A while later, I was staying at a motel in Michigan and went for a swim in the pool. A bunch of young girls were having a good time there. Somehow, we struck up a conversation and I was asked where I was from.
I told them I was Canadian and that I lived in Stratford.
They immediately associated that name with their teen idol, Justin Bieber.
I was asked if I had ever met him. I told them the truth that no, we had never crossed paths.
“But I have met his dog,” I said.
Shrieks from the pool.
“You’ve met Sammy?”
I hadn’t mentioned the dog’s name. Apparently I didn’t have to.
No one asked for my autograph.
I told them I would try to get Sammy’s pawtograph.
But I have never seen the little doggie again.
The girls in the pool don’t remember my name. I don’t remember theirs.
But we all know Sammy.
