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.