My Dog

Still havent found him. I’m way past worried. Flyers go up tonight.
Here’s one of the photos I took of Othello on Sunday:


UPDATE: Thanx to you all for your prayers and support. Hopefully Othello is just sowing his wild oats somewhere and will be back home soon. My other dog, Katy, is Othello’s mom, she’s 17 years old. Since Othello’s been gone, she hasnt eaten and all she does is mope around all day. He is probably the only thing that has been keeping her with us.

UPDATE: Unfortunately, I’ve been told Othello was in fact hit by a car and that he will no longer be able to bother me with his obnoxious barking. Descansa en paz Papo.

13 thoughts on “My Dog”

  1. Val – I am sending up a prayer for your sweet dog, in the hopes that he comes home soon. Don’t despair, though – dogs have been known to stay gone for weeks and still come back to their masters.

    Anyway…much love to you and family; it is always painful to have this kind of uncertainty about a loved one. And a family dog most definitely is a loved one!

  2. What they said, Val, and then some. My beloved cat went missing for two days right after we moved into this house in May/June and I was ready to sling a rope over a rafter and stretch my neck out. It’s just the absolute worst when your favorite is missing.

    I am saying a prayer.



  3. Calling All Angels, Pt. 2

    Oh, this is no good. Othello is missing. He belongs to Val Prieto of BabaluBlog and he’s been missing since yesterday. Val, if it’s any comfort, I know how you feel. I am saying a prayer to whatever angels brought…

  4. I will ask my friend J.D. for assistance. J.D. is no longer on Earth, but I like to think he watches out for all the lost animals that are.

    I hope your Othello comes home very soon.

  5. Hi Val, I found your blog from our discussion over at “A Small Victory.” Good luck finding your dog. I lost one of my cats for two days, so I know how much it hurts to wait for a pet to come home.

  6. de se?or Pablo Neruda-


    TRISTEZA, escarabajo
    de siete patas rotas,
    huevo de telara?a,
    rata descalabrada,
    esqueleto de perra:
    Aqu? no entras.
    No pasas.
    al Sur con tu paraguas,
    al Norte con tus dientes de culebra.
    Aqu? vive un poeta.
    La tristeza no puede
    entrar por estas puertas.
    Por las ventanas
    entra el aire del mundo,
    las rojas rosas nuevas,
    las banderas bordadas
    del pueblo y sus victorias.
    No puedes.
    Aqu? no entras.
    tus alas de murci?lago,
    yo pisar? las plumas
    que caen de tu manto,
    yo barrer? los trozos
    de tu cad?ver hacia
    las cuatro puntas del viento,
    yo te torcer? el cuello,
    te coser? los ojos,
    cortar? tu mortaja
    y enterrar? tus huesos roedores
    bajo la primavera de un manzano.

    Por tu amigo perdido. Descanza en paz, Othello.

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