I am not an animal lover. And let that be a testament to those of you out there who think I'm "soft". Sure, I can shed a tear at any, and I mean any, kind of emotional garbage put before me. I've cried at athletic greatness and disappointment, at weddings and funerals (although it's time to put the fun back in funeral), at movies, the theater, ballet, pretty much anywhere where my spirit gets moved in any way. But when it comes to animals, I've got nothing. Some years ago I had to put my childhood dog Ginger to sleep. She had spent the last weeks of her 13 years suffering from some form of cancer in or near her mouth. In the end she couldn't eat. I took her to the vet and they couldn't get a good look because she wouldn't let them near her muzzle. They said that they would have to put her under to get a quality look and then they felt that they would only be confirming what they already suspected. I guessed that it could be a piece of wood stuck in the back of her jaw somewhere that was causing the white blood cell count to spike as it fought the infection which won me mas points with the vet. But, they advised, her chances of coming out of anesthesia at her age were 50/50 at best. Without hesitation I told them that I wanted to put her down. Their reaction of relief was unexpected by me. I figured they would want me to put her on an IV drip or some such non-sense. They instead praised me for my decision and that ultimately it was what was best for the dog. That too many of their customers want to keep Fido alive even though it's cruel to the animal. I went back to the rockpile where I had to deliver the news to my mother. She took it pretty hard, but what really irritated her was that I delivered the blow while noshing on a Whopper (way before the bike non-sense). She turned on her heel and retreated to her office but not before dropping an, "you have interesting defense mechanisms," on me.

So last night, just after we got the kiddiewinks to bed, we discover that our dog Matilda was missing. A beautiful black lab that is just about as good a pet as you could hope to have. The wife scrambled about furiously whistling, clapping and calling. We figured she got out around noon and had been gone for over seven hours. She likes to roam but always returns. This time she didn't and we don't know what has happened. Unfortunately, during her last outing she came home without her collar which we didn't get a chance to replace. So now she is out there with no identification. Many calls to the pound have been placed and no one with the details fitting my dog have been turned in. Meantime, I've tried to console my wife as she is a wreck but it only goes so far. Hell I feel worse for her than I do for the damn lost dog. I guess in the end, I know that a pet is a short run deal and I've never gotten into the whole emotional attachment as a result. This really bugs my wife. What can I say. I invest a hell of a lot more in people. Anyway, if you see a collarless dog out roaming around that answers to the name of Matilda, let me know. There is an owner and one only that will be greatly relieved.

Johnny GoFast