She was elegant as she walked the few steps up to the stage and tentatively positioned herself behind the podium. Her gray hair, once blonde, was pulled back with a simple tie. She wore black slacks and a high-necked black pullover but the whole outfit was thrown into disarray by the blinding color pattern of her silk shawl, one bought in some far region of Africa or India, I assumed. Her voice was small as she said, “I’m not sure how to follow such an effusive introduction but I’ll try.” With that, her body hunched and her head rose up as she let out the loudest monkey sounds this crowd had ever heard, live.

I was giddy when I heard Jane Goodall was downstairs at a reception, honoring her for an upcoming program on one of our channels. “Hurry up and go meet her!” Jodi said when I learned Jane was in the building. I could smell the sterno candles for the catering in the atrium all the way up on in my 7th floor office. By the time I got downstairs, Jane was taking the stage and wailing like a monkey.

I was in college when I first started seeing films of Jane in the jungle, with her chimps, and I fell in love with that soft, lilting voice and her cute dirt-on-her-face disposition. Most of all, I loved her determination to educate the world of the chimp’s importance in our lives. We are, after all, just a kiss away from them, and Jane sought to put an end to the wanton brutality that we imposed on their civilization. She was a hero, that Jane, and a feisty one. She still is.

It was the perfect end to a fairly good day. Although my desk has about a thousand pounds of stress on it from an endless amount of deals and casting I have to accomplish, I was corporately reviewed by my boss and shockingly, I got a rave. While I know I’m not at the top of my game, work-wise or anywhere-wise, for that matter, at least I’m seasoned enough to fool the people upstairs. I’m still going to follow through with therapy and not take this pat on the head as anything more than knowing I’m not going to get booted anytime soon.

Then Jane yelped like a monkey and I went home to Bob, who greeted me with yelps of his own. I snuggled his warm sweet nose, kissed his cheek and his black rubbery lips, and took my own little monkey out for a walk. On Sunday, Bob and I are going somewhere in Virginia to a pet store where an adoption fair is taking place. I’ve signed up as a volunteer to help get those wayward dogs a good home. It was almost nine years ago when Billy and I went into a pet store and found our Bob. Maybe I can help make a family as happy as Billy and I were.

I bet if I had that Jane on a leash, doing her yelp, I’d be able to have her adopted in no time.