Rascal
has all but disappeared. It’s been two weeks now. Two weeks since his
appearance near my home has vanished into history. There are no blood stains,
which welcomes my heart with the idea that perhaps he wasn’t shot for
frolicking around causing mischief. But he is no longer here. His company doesn’t
keep Riley warm at night. His sweet chubby little face doesn’t greet me with a
long tongue. His playful nips don’t taunt my knees and butt anymore. My sensitive
heart doesn’t want to think the worst, so I’ll just stay with the idea that he
was sent to a home with lots of playful children who wanted to keep him in
their yard. He’s a child-loving dog anyhow. He wouldn’t have been happy in
simply my company. It’s only fair he was put with a bunch of fellow playful
young’uns to frolic with.
