Once upon a time I had a great friend. Her name was Baby. She was a grey Schnauzer/Poodle mix. Her fur was
curly, and she had long, black eyelashes. Her teeth were white, even and perfect. She was so beautiful to me. So far, in my two years of life, she was the only and best canine friend I have ever had. Whenever I was with her, (which was everyday), she made things I usually didn’t like to do seemed special. For example, I don’t like to walk on a leash. I do it, but I don’t like it. On-leash, Baby always walked with such gusto, with such a spring in her quick, tippy little steps, her head held high and tail straight up. I didn’t mind keeping up with her. Her person never took her for walks. Because he worked in LA, Baby was left at home alone for hours. Often in a crate. She loved, loved, loved playing Nip-the-Neck with me. She loved fence-running and working up the dogs who lived on the other side of them. We’d jump on Mom’s bed and run amuck about the house for hours, chasing and jumping and playing rough with each other. Her fur would be all wet because of my big mouth. She was loud and verbal. She was the NeNe of the neighborhood. She barked every time the doorbell rang or if she heard a doorbell ring on TV. She was the guard dog around here. She never seemed to want to go home. She’d hide under Mom’s slip covered chair while her person called and called for her. When she refused to come out, he took to letting her just stay with us, and it was great. She was a girl who really knew how to have fun. I loved, loved, loved her. One morning, she got out from her fenced backyard. She wore no collar, had no tags, and was neither licensed nor micro chipped. After that, I never saw my Baby again. I couldn’t tell which one of us was more upset: Me… Or my Mom. Mom visited all the neighbors and asked if they’d seen Baby. She drove up and down the streets of the neighborhood looking for Baby. She visited the two nearby animal shelters (both of which are 50 miles one-way from where we live) for days searching for Baby. She got the bright idea she was going to print “Lost Dog” flyers so she asked Baby’s person for a picture. Astonishingly, he had no pictures. Not one single picture of the girl who brought the sunshine into my life, who played with me with my toys; the girl who went for walks on-leash with me, and nipped my neck and I didn’t mind. The yippy, yappy, high energy, high-stepping girl who was the best friend I ever had, had disappeared. Baby was never seen, nor heard from again. Mom takes me this place and that hoping we’ll find another Baby to fill the void she’s left in my life, but no luck so far. I miss her. I never had another playmate who was as approving, loving, accepting, fun and flexible as her. The older you get, the harder it is to make real friends. Baby, won’t you please come home?
"Thank you for being a friend Traveled down the road and back again your heart is true you’re a pal and a confidant I’m not ashamed to say I hope it always will stay this way My hat is off, won’t you stand up and take a bow And if you threw a party Invited everyone you knew You would see, the biggest gift would be for me and the card attached would say, Thank you for being a friend Thank you for being a friend Thank you for being a friend Thank you for being a friend"
Andrew Gold | Theme from The Golden Girls | 1985-1992
“And it came to be evening, and it came to be morning.”
Thats’ Life Today. Ciao!