I’ve been raising money for various things for several years now, ever since the 2016 Election, when the country seemed to be pulling apart. I’ve come to know many of the loyal people who have been supporting the refugees, the soccer team, the scholarship children, the wish lists, community radio, farmers in animal rights trouble, the New York Carriage Horses, and the Mansion residents, my longest last task of good.

Most are strangers who I will never know, an irony of our times. CDobbs is one of those strangers, yet I feel especially close to her and grateful for her.

Most people send contributions online, but there are many letter writers still, people who still want to take time and think about their messages to me, and every day I go to my Post Office Box and get these letters, this has become such a cherished ritual for me.

Among my favorites are the $5 people, the people from small towns and villages all over the country who take the time to place $5 and $10 bills, sometimes a few single dollar bills, write them out, put them in envelopes, put stamps on, get them in the mail.

Their contributions are small, and I couldn’t do this work without larger contributions, but the $5 people have a special place in my heart.

A Paypal or credit donation – just as precious to me –  takes two or three seconds, these crumpled handwritten letters take some time. All contributions are special to me, they make our work possible. But some of these get lodged in my heat and my imagination.

Every month for several years now, I get a letter from CDobbs, she lives near Indianapolis in Indiana. That is all I know about her, and for all I know, it might be a him. But I think it’s  woman.

Each letter contains a $5 bill, and a short letter filled with inspiration and appreciation and enthusiasm. She uses a lot of exclamation points.  This latest letter is typical

“Hello, Mr. Katz,” she wrote on February 27. “Thank you for your beautiful photographs and the Story Of Red! Please use this donation you would like, C Dobbs.

The letters are a bit formal, she calls me “Mr.,” which almost no one does and she never tells me her full name. Online communications are much less formal. I picture CDobbs as an older woman, perhaps retired. In college, one of the few courses I took was in handwriting analysis, it stuck with me.

I see CDobbs in my mind as coming down to her kitchen, sitting at her table with a cup of coffee, turning to my blog and perhaps Maria’s blog as she drinks her coffee and perhaps scans her morning paper for local news and obituaries. I see her as being retired, on a fixed income, perhaps a widow.

I imagine her in sensible shoes, sitting in the cold Indiana winter in a sweater, following my adventures and the lives of the animals on Bedlam Farm, clucking at my stumbles and missteps and outbursts. She is an enthusiastic and positive person, I think of her as being religious.

I think of her as being nice, and as being empathetic and thoughtful. She has never written a nasty letter to anyone in her life, online or off.

She is a dog lover, for sure, I don’t know if she still has a dog, I think she does. Maybe a cat now.

On her calendar on the refrigerator is a reminder to send me $5 every month. She wants and expects nothing back, she is just thanking me for my photos – such a sweet thing to do – and for my writing about the dogs and other animals here.

I think she has been following me for a very long time, and has chosen to stick it out with me, as some others regularly storm off in a bilious huff. I am very glad there are people like CDobbs in the world, they encourage me to be  better.

This morning, I called a florist in Indiana and ordered a floral arrangement and a box of chocolates for CDobbs, they will arrive either today or tomorrow. They asked for a telephone number, but I don’t have one.

It’s cold in Indiana right now, but I’m betting she will be home. I told the florist they can leave the flowers with a neighbor or on the porch. I sent a note, saying, “thanks CDobbs, I am grateful for your kind words and support, and for your monthly contribution of $5.

You are an inspiration to me, Best, Jon Katz.