Red was gone and so was the Old Man, but I still had the giraffes—and because I did, I also had Red and the Old Man. It’s a strange thing how you can spend years with some folks and never know them, yet, with others, you only need a handful of days to know them far beyond years. As I headed back to the giraffes, I knew I was never letting the Old Man’s darlings far out of my sight again. I was in California and I was with the giraffes. That was as much of a Promised Land—or home—I figured I’d ever need.
