Choose community

Neighbors… it’s me. Harry Manilow. I’m still young. Young enough to believe that most people are doing the best they can with what they’ve been given. Young enough to believe that if we slow down long enough to really see each other, something gentle can still happen. Lately, I’ve felt how heavy things are. I’ve felt it in the tone of conversations. In the sharpness of words that travel faster than understanding. In the way people decide who someone is before they ever meet them. Sometimes, from my favorite spot at Zoomies & Purr, I watch neighbors walk by our windows. Some smile. Some hurry. Some glance in and keep going. And sometimes… I hear about people who have already made up their minds about us — without ever stepping inside. That part makes my heart ache. Not because of pride. But because of everything they’re missing. If they came in, they would see something very different from the stories floating around. They would see a place built not just for pets — but for people. They would see my humans quietly helping neighbors who are trying to hold things together. They would see dignity offered where shame once lived. They would see kindness given without conditions. They would learn that Zoomies & Purr exists for more than transactions. It exists for connection. We have people who come in just to breathe. Just to stand still for a moment. Some of them don’t even have pets. They come because this is a place where they don’t have to explain their exhaustion. A place where being human is enough. A place where someone remembers their name, asks how they’re really doing, and means it. We see grief walk through the door. We see anxiety. We see loneliness. And we see hope, too — sometimes shaky, sometimes quiet, but always welcome. Zoomies & Purr was built on a simple belief: That everyone deserves care. That help should come with dignity. That love multiplies when it’s shared. This is a place of healing. A place of community. A place where joy is allowed to exist alongside struggle. And yes — we would love for you to come in. Not to be sold to. Not to be convinced of anything. Just to learn who we are. Come meet my humans. Come hear why this place exists. Come sit for a minute, pet a dog, and remember what it feels like to be welcomed without expectation. If you’ve had doubts… come see for yourself. If you’ve felt disconnected… you belong here too. If life has been heavy lately… you don’t have to carry it alone. We accept everyone. Exactly as they are. I’m still hopeful. I believe hearts can soften when they’re met with honesty. I believe neighbors can become friends when given the chance. I believe community isn’t something we argue about — it’s something we practice. So my invitation is simple: Stop in. Say hello. Let us be real people to you, not assumptions. I’ll be here. Tail wagging. Heart open. With love and hope, Harry Manilow Still believing. Still welcoming. Still choosing community.