Have You Seen My Dog?

Being caught up in my own mind left me lonely. I needed a companion.

My father brought home a one-year-old dog with whom I found no connection. The dog was returned to the original owner. Then he brought home a two-week-old puppy who vomited blood and died. I went around the house in deep anguish, saying to my parents: “You killed my dog. You killed my dog.”

Soon my father brought home a six-week-old puppy. He was black with tan and white splotches and liked to chew on trees (he was teething). I named him Snapper.

We became best buddies. We’d go behind the garage where I mixed liquids in the garbage like pickle juice and ketchup. I would sniff them and then Snapper would sniff them. He was interested. While we were waiting in the car for my mother to come out of the doctor’s office, I showed him how to jump through the open car window onto the seat. After a few tries, he got it down. We both enjoyed his success. I petted him and he smiled.

One day when I was about eight or nine years old, Snapper was not home when I came back from elementary school. I asked my mother where he was. She didn’t know and suggested I go to the police station near my elementary school.

I rode my bike the usual route to school, cut across the playground, crossed the big street, and pushed the bike up the stairs, and then took the long walk to the front of the police station. I pushed open the big doors. A big man in uniform sat behind the large entrance desk.

“Have you seen my dog?”

He shook his head, “Sorry, son, we haven’t seen your dog.”

Tears flooded my eyes as I left. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I went down the stairs. But instead of recrossing the big street, I pedaled on the sidewalk on the right side of the street. Sobbing, sobbing, sobbing.

Then I looked up and there, coming toward me, was a black dog walking in Snapper’s sideways style. Could it be? Could it be? Yes! It was Snapper!

He was casually happy to see me, jumping up on my legs, letting me pet his head. He seemed to be asking me why I’d taken so long to find him.