This morning I awoke to a Halloween scare and it wasn’t Super Storm Sandy. I had lost my 112-year old Golden Retriever that I had rescued from a shelter 8 years ago.
With arthritis in his hind legs, seizures that have affected his balance, a missing tail and a lopsided ear without hearing, I thought surely he felt his fate calling and wandered into the woods to die.
Still, I put out an APB for him to all my neighbors, the animal control unit, called my friends, left a message on Facebook and finally worked up dozens of leaflets that got stuffed into mailboxes throughout my development. Kids left home from school helped me scour the park and call his name, “Rocco! Rockstar! Rocky!”
It felt wrong, disrespectful, definitely ridiculous, to be this anxious for a pet when so many millions of lives were devastated by Sandy last night. Watching CNN, I wiped away the tears and resumed work.
This was, after all, a furry four-legged (two that barely budged) animal – not a child, a family member, a friend, a relative or a house full of memories.
Then, my neighbor called. The trickster had wandered into her garage, presumably when she was leaving for work and she closed the door without knowing he was inside. Rather than bark, scratch or whimper, Rockstar fell asleep until she got home.
The moral of this story is two-fold: always leash a senile dog (I mean all dogs) and keep things in perspective by watching the news.