The penned notes went with me written on top of the restaurant’s styrofoam take home box.

Lunch with a friend had yielded too much “food for thought” to leave behind, much of it centering on her little dog, Trooper.

Trooper is a mini combo — beagle, dachshund, terrier, and more. My friend said, “He didn’t ask about our relatives, so we didn’t ask about his.”

She also dropped this zinger, “You’ve heard about rescue dogs. Well, he is one. He rescued us.”

She and her husband had lost their other dog to cancer. They had health struggles of their own.

It was quiet and empty around the house. Most everything had been said in their 56 years together.

Enter Trooper. Just getting started in dog years. Enough personality and vitality to light up the place. She and her husband were first in line at the shelter.

Trooper had been given up by a young couple whose job demands kept them from devoting enough time to him.

Instead he went home with retirees who could be attentive morning, noon, and night.

The lonely marrieds began to have something to talk about. Someone to get out and about with. Laughter at his canine antics reverberated through the house.

My friend said Trooper had learned every street and alley in town on their walks.

As she put it, “When you go down alleys you see the back side of people’s lives.” According to her you glimpse what people don’t want you to see. You see their discards and learn about them in what they abandon.

She said, “You never know what’s going to happen in an alley.”

For instance, a huge dog on a long chain leapt into the narrow space as she and Trooper were passing by. The little dog with the big bark would have been no match.

A young woman popped out the back door hollering, “You (raunchy expletive) old woman, get off my property!”

Keeping complete control of herself my friend retorted, “The alley is not your private property.

“And you’ve just used a very offensive word with me. You said ‘old.’ I’d thank you not to use it again.”

The woman called off her dog and stomped into the house.

Trooper brought with him an open, honest affection to the home of my friends. She told me, “Dogs are guileless. They have no motive, no agenda, but to give and receive love.” How many among us can make such a claim.

For a 20-pounder who is overjoyed he’s got a family, Trooper the shelter dog has performed a monumental rescue.