Blogs on Dogs

It seems I've created a few blogs about someone elses dog, now it's about my own. My dog Soda decided to go for a jaunt on the night of the 2nd of October. He hasn't come back. This has been an ongoing thing with him to leave when let out at night, but he usually comes back. I would go ballistic when he'd been gone over a couple of hours, and the family kind of made fun of me for it. Maybe they know now how I have felt each time he has taken too much time outside. It's so vast out here. There are too many places for him to get lost, or bears could eat him, or he could get run over or stolen. My fear is that someone isn't honest and wants to keep him. He is cute, trained, sweet, loving. Everything a person could want in a dog. He has a microchip, but without the collar, I wonder if someone would take the time to have him checked for the chip.

My heart aches for my loss. He was my shadow 24/7. I'd get up early to go to work, he was up on his hind legs kissing me while I sat on the toilet. He'd lay on the floor of the bathroom while I showered and would lick the water off my legs when I'd get out......... Yeah, he was trying to help me get dry. He'd look forelorn when I left for work and would wait at the window for my return. He would sleep on my neck at night if I let him. His obsessions included any kind of ball you could throw for him and he never forgot where it was if it went under the couch he would take you to it. He loved it when you sprayed room spray. We could spray it and he'd hear it from upstairs, and run down to bite the canister. He wanted you to spray him in the face. But the one thing he loved the most was his shot put ball. He would push it around on the grass of our West Valley back yard. Our yard was tiered so he would push it down hill, then football hike it between his legs until he got it back on the top of the hill, then push it down again. His front teeth are worn down from that ball, as well as a little permanent pink spot on his snout from it.
We have video footage of him pushing it around in our back yard. I've let him play with it out here, but the ground is as much dirt as grass and he ends up throwing up from the inhaled dust.

His dish of food and water sit untouched in the kitchen. His racketballs and tennis balls rest in the little container on top of the woodburning stove. I check for his hair on the chair of my bedroom where he slept. I've looked all around the house for little pieces of hair to keep and smell to remind me of him. I was always picking up his black hair off the frontroom floor, he was always rolling around to scratch himself. We had just given him a flee bath the night before he left, that's why his collar was off. It was hanging on my treadmill to dry. If only I'd kept it on him after his bath, but it was wet and not letting the hair around his neck dry.

I can't think straight. My mind is bogged down with worry and sorrow. I keep feeling like others think I'm overreacting, but they don't know how much of a friend this loving dog was to me. He was unconditional. He would love me and kiss me and hug me all the time. Even when I was mad at him. He was always there, always ready for attention and love and ever willing to give it. Who wouldn't want a dog like that? That's why I think someone would keep him.

I have to go through the pictures I have and make some posters to put out. That is my plan today