Kayla Alive?!? A Cruel Hoax.

Folks, this just in from my wire sources. . . Kayla might be alive!

Today, Los Steadteckis blog reports that Kayla is alive in Concord, North Carolina. They even included this photo as proof:

How elated I was to see my beloved with a newspaper that was not rolled up as if ready to beat her!!! But then I examined the photo more closely. . . and now I believe this photo to be a very well-crafted hoax.

Look, I may have only lived on this earth for 14 dog years but I didn't just fall off the dog pound truck last week. I know all about these North Carolina cults and how they often will try to extort hard working dogs like me with doctored pictures of dead loved ones. To my canine eye, Kayla appears deader than the doormat she is lying on. Sure, the taxidermist did a good job (love the glass eye), and from what I understand they have a lot of them there that make a killing. What makes this all this hoax all the more obvious (and frankly disturbing) is the body bag in the top right corner. These are obviously professional killers callously carrying canine carcasses for their own convenience.

Incidentally, this used to be my playground

I looked for Kayla high and low in the stream that runs by the school yard where we used to play. Ultimately I got the city involved and they drained the river. Still no Kayla. And now I can't even play in my playground. Would someone please cue that old Madonna song for added dramatic effect, please?

Haiku For Kayla

Kayla was my friend.
I really liked her a lot.
Now she is dead. Arf.

Have You Seen This Dog?

It's difficult for me to write about this so I may as well say it before I become paralyzed with grief. (Sigh. Sob. Sniffle. . . Uh oh. . .)

(15 minutes later)

Kayla is gone. (Sigh. Sob. Sniffle.)

(much later)

The last time I saw Kayla she was with her owners and we went to the Friends field and played. It was a glorious afternoon, one that I thought would last for ever. . . until our playtime was truncated and I was unceremoniously ushered back into my house. Meanwhile, Kayla was kidnapped by her owners. I barely got the chance to say, "I Love You Brown Furry One," when she was whisked away and I stood at the door wondering when I would see her again. The answer came to me over the course of the ensuing weeks when I would walk by Kayla's house and stop to see if she was there.
On one occasion her owners let me inside the house and I witnessed with my own eyes that Kayla was not there. I was left to conclude that Kayla was murdered and probably eaten. Dad later told me the shocking truth about dog cannibalism. Thank god I don't live in Cambodia.

Anyway, I didn't want to believe that Kayla was dead. Like grieving lover in denial I went to the media. I posted signs and marked all over the neighborhood, asking for any information.

I inspected some of the newly erected walls at the local strip mall to see if Kayla was buried Jimmy Hoffa-style inside. At one point I thought I heard muffled yaps, but these were fleeting.

It wasn't long before they were dredging the Stony Run creek near where we last played.

But still no Kayla.