sometimes you just have to wonder


This took me a couple of days to write … as I wrapped my head around it.


The other day (the 24th of January). I am driving up to a traffic light and to my left I see a dog (a Rhodesian Ridgeback I believe) kind of chugging along the sidewalk.

No owner. Just dog.

And I recognized the look.

Probably because I lived it far too many times.

The “where is my owner” look.

The “I saw him pull out of the driveway and now where the heck is he” look.

The “I miss him and, dammit, I am gonna find him” look.

It is a look of casual intensity.

Ah. That look.

To the ignorant non-dog owner the dog looks lost. But it is far from lost. It is searching … it has a mission.

And typically the dog is conducting its mission within ‘the rules’ … i.e., stay on sidewalk, be polite as you pass people, don’t pee in someone’s yard, don’t run out into traffic, etc.


And then the dog did the damndest thing … when he reached the intersection he stopped … refocused … and he crossed in front of the first stopped car at the stoplight and started walking down the driver sides … stopping at each driver window to check for his owner.

I say the damndest because … well … Tigger used to do that.

The smart bastard would know exactly who he was looking for and how to look.

(by the way … there is nothing more disconcerting then seeing your dog unexpectedly staring at you beside the car after you were pretty sure you had left him somewhere else)


And this is where you really have to sometimes wonder about things … the 24th is Tigger’s 2 year ‘gone to the dog biscuit factory in the sky’ date.


I certainly haven’t forgotten Tigger … but I have tended to put the box of all the good times (and the times I could have been a better companion) on a shelf just to pull out and scan like a box of old photographs.

But. That searching dog brought the box out and handed it to me (which as you would imagine is, mentally, different than pulling it off the shelf yourself).

Look. I knew Tigger wouldn’t be forever.

And I always knew losing him would possibly be the worst thing I have ever faced to date. But, I admit, nothing could ever have prepared me for this 2 years he has now been gone.

Yeah. It’s been a few years now. But I still miss him.

And, yeah, I have never gotten another dog (yet).

We grew up together (despite the fact I was in my 30’s when I got him).

He was a great dog. And a great friend. (and, yeah Tigger, in case you are reading this post from wherever you are, I still have your picture on my frig).

I have come to the conclusion I will always love that crazy too-smart always hyper but always devoted dog, oh, and I will always be mentally giving biscuits, treats and belly rubs forever.

My dog and I were inseparable. He went everywhere with me … pretty much always.


I think he visits me still on occasion.

And I know he still talks to me on occasion.

And, yeah, for some reason on this particular day … this one dog was walking down this sidewalk with the same ‘where is my owner’ look and I had this same maddening memory … which I believe only pet owners know  … the one that is a mixture of unbelievable fear that your best friend is going to be roadkill in his stupidity and the unequivocal bottomless love you feel with the disbelief that he would go to such extremes just for you.


Thanks to this one dog on his mission he reminded me of another one dog … on one special day.


It’s always worth writing a note about (and to) Tigger. Who knows. Maybe they have wireless in the great dog biscuit in the sky (and they taught him to read).


Sometimes you just have to wonder a little about destiny and how random things truly are that happen.

Written by Bruce