A String of Bad Luck

My dog, Angus is missing. He's been missing for 3 nights. I'm so worried about him.

We've searched our highway, our property, out neighbors' property. Just everywhere.

I fall asleep thinking of him. I wake up thinking of him. My thoughts aren't pleasant. I keep envisioning all the ways he might be suffering, all the ways he might be in pain.

Keith thinks he's dead. We haven't found a body so I still hope he's alive. If he's alive and able, I'm sure he'll come home.

Unless he's stuck.

Unless the coyotes got him.

Unless he was trampled by a cow, horse, mule, or donkey.

Unless he was mauled by a bigger dog.

Unless he was run over by a car or truck and whoever was driving picked him up and dumped him somewhere we haven't looked.

And we've looked all over.

But the grass is tall. We could walk right past him and never see him. I thought I found him yesterday in the neighbor's pasture. I saw a black lump. I went running through knee-high grass and weeds (to which I'm very allergic) and sticker bushes.

It wasn't Angus. It was a tire.

Fuck! I hope I had found him.

I'm glad it wasn't him, in a way, because that would mean he was definitively dead. And I'm still trying to hold onto hope that we'll get him back. But.

But I worry he's in pain. Stuck. Or with strangers who don't know and love him.

Life must go on. I spent a whole day walking the streets searching for him. I spent much of the next day searching our property. 30 acres. Most of it grass. And the day after that (yesterday) I spent much of the morning searching my neighbor's pasture.

I need to keep a routine, keep busy, so I don't make myself crazy with worry, doubt, and self-blame. After I searched yesterday, I came inside and exercised. I was holding 2 pound dumbbells while I went through the cardio routine. There was an exercise where I had to squat and make big arms in a circle and squat again. Somewhere in that arm circle (either above my head or at my waist) I knocked my finger between the two dumbbells.

I went to the doctor this morning, after my exercise. Several x-rays later, and my finger is in a sling. I broke it. It's enough to make me want to give up!

I won't.

I promise.

I'll be in that splint until June 3rd when we get new X-rays.

Broken fingers are stupid!

Really really stupid.

I won't give up my exercise, my routine, and I won't give up on my Angus!

Lead image: Angus on my lap. Because he thinks he's a lap dog.

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