I lost my dog. Well kind of, if you give your dog to a friend because you cannot take it with you but you still see it pretty regularly, can you still count it? I love him, he is an idiot, but loveable. I used to be married and the boxer was one of our pets as was the pug, Sophia and two cats.
I was allowed to keep Sophia but she had a congenital heart issue and died a couple of years ago. I took that really hard. So hard in fact, that I had her cremated so I could do something with her ashes. I still have them, they are doing what she loved to do, nothing. I still miss her pushed in face and loud snoring.
Now the boxer has run away from my buddy’s house and I am feeling that loss again. Granted I gave him away but I never stopped loving him. I have spent the last couple of days searching for him. I keep expecting that he is hiding out and will see me and attack me, Dino style, like he always did.
He is a good boy. One of my favorite stories is the day I brought home a giant piece of premium steak. I celebrated like a Cro-Magnon Male celebrating his first kill. I actually looked forward to coming home and cooking it. I placed the steak on the counter and decided to celebrate with a cigarette. That was s a mistake. Paulie was big enough to grab the juicy steak off the counter and demolished it. Then looked at me like nothing happened, I kept him anyway.
Now he is gone, I wonder where he is. Did someone else find him? Did they look into his marble-like eyes and fall in love? With each day that passes I lose hope of ever having him drool on me again. Yes I gave him away but he was always there. My only hope if that if I can never see him again that he will bring the same happiness to someone else. But, really, I just want him to come home to my friend’s house. I miss you Paulie, also if you can read this, then you can type. Comment below and tell me where you are and I will come get you, you can have my steak, dude.