Thursday, August 28, 2014

An open letter to the people who had my dog before me

Dear folks,

Hi.

I don't know anything about you.
I don't know if you had my Ozzie as a teeny baby puppy.
I don't know what you named him.
I don't know what you fed him or where he slept.
I don't know how you house trained him or if you taught him any commands like 'sit' or 'stay.'
I don't know what your circumstances were or what cards life had dealt you.
I do know that it's a shitty thing to abandon a dog on a country road.
And I am pretty sure that that's how he came to be picked up by animal control.
He's too little a guy to have escaped or run away and gotten that far.
And if you had really loved him, you would've done everything in your power to find him and get him back. I know I wouldn't leave an inch of this green earth uncovered if he was missing from me.

But you didn't.
Fortunately, the people at that mechanical shop out on that lonely country road saw him trying to get inside. They checked for a collar, tags, any kind of ID. Nothing. Animal control came and picked him up and delivered him to the local animal shelter.
He was lucky.
He was kept safe, warm and dry, fed and cuddled and coddled by the nice staff there.
And meanwhile, we kept flipping back to his photo on Petfinder.com.
And we made a call.
And submitted some paperwork.
And took a drive.
He has a lot of "Squiggy-like" behaviors.
And came home with the sweet boy we would name Ozzie.
(Ozymandias Squiggman Spampobello, formally.)

No, I don't know anything about you or what led you to give up this beautiful dog.



But I know he makes funny, cow-like groans when he's comfortably cuddled up to sleep.


I know he likes getting up early in the morning and getting right to the playtime.

I know he's scared of the rain.

I know he doesn't like getting his feet wet.

I know he loves mealtime almost as much as Frances. Almost.



"Got my eye on you, Ginger."
"Play Graceland again, Lady!"
I know he loves Paul Simon.

I know he's smart.

I know he hates Opie Taylor.

I know he gets the zoomies at least three times a day.

I know he loves, loves, LOVES his brother Minchy.
I know he's happy.

I know he makes ME happy.

So, I'm not writing this to castigate you, unknown folks.
I'm writing to thank you.
If you hadn't given up on him, I wouldn't have him in my life.