Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?

Here's the update on the diet: I've lost 13.5 pounds in one week. My initial reaction is to jump for joy (but I think I need to get another 40 off before I put that kind of stress on the foundation of my house), but then I think that maybe that's too much weight to lose in only seven days. Will it stay off? Will my body go into the dreaded self-preservation mode and stop metabolizing what I do eat? Stay tuned. At any rate, I've had some success and feel good about that.

Now, the real meat of today's blog. I may have lost so much weight because I've been crying for days. My little dog Pippin went missing on Tuesday and I am quickly approaching crazy woman status. I just got off the phone with a pet psychic who told me that she ate something that made her sick and she's hovering near a commercial area. The psychic asked her to wag her tail and didn't get a response. So now I'm sitting here in my office, 30 miles from my home, thinking about my beloved baby sprawled out behind a Safeway, unable to get up and come home.

My nerves are shot. My stomach is sick. I hardly sleep. I've smoked two packs of cigarettes since Tuesday. But I haven't made even one misstep on my diet. Believe me, the gin bottle is calling. Shrieking, in fact. But I don't want to fuck up my diet. I also don't want to be drunk as I drive all over Denver looking for my dog. But let me tell you something. I pass Sonic every day on my way to and from work (two Sonics, in fact) and I haven't stopped yet. And if you've ever tasted a Sonic cheeseburger with mayo and a side of tater tots smothered in salt, you will appreciate what a Herculean feat this is.

Before I leave you, let me get on my soapbox for just a minute: if you ever find an animal, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take it to an animal shelter or call animal control and let them know. Please don't keep the animal because you're afraid that it'll be euthanized if you take it to the shelter. If you want the animal, all you have to do is tell the shelter that you want it after the appropriate amount of time for the owner to make contact is past. If you don't want the animal, then the shelter is the best place for it so people who might want it can see it. And most areas -- and most certainly Denver -- have no-kill organizations that will not euthanize an adoptable animal.

But most of all, MOST OF ALL, the shelter is the place the owner will be looking for the animal. I spoke with a woman this morning who thought she might have my dog, and I got in touch with her through the most ridiculously circuitous route. We determined that the dog she had was not Pippin, and I begged her to take it to a shelter. She doesn't want the dog to be euthanized, but she doesn't want the dog, either. So what the fuck does she propose to do with the dog? TAKE THE FUCKING DOG TO A SHELTER SO ITS OWNER CAN FIND IT. I only got in touch with her because a sister of a friend got a random mass email from this woman saying she had found a dog. Otherwise, I would probably never have known. Christ, this makes me so motherfucking angry I can barely speak (type).

Well, that was quite a workout. Maybe I've hit an even 14 pounds by now?