Lost Dog

It’s the middle of the night and I’m browsing Craigslist when I see someone is selling their 3-month-old Beagle.  This puppy’s face is so damn cute, I instantly fall in love with her, and before I know it, I’m emailing the owner with a bunch of questions.  I want to know why they are getting rid of her, stuff about her medical history, and all the other basic queries one might have in this situation.  

beagle

The face that stole my heart

While I’m typing, in my head, it’s already a done deal.  It almost doesn’t matter what the owner replies with.  I’ve calculated it, and spent the money I don’t really have to spend on this dog.  I’ve already picked her up and taken her home with me.  I’m visualizing the Facebook photos I’ll share, the walks we’ll go on, and all the hours spent romping around the house.  I’ve even got a new name picked out:  Lucy.  Me and Lucy are gonna be best buds, and I can’t wait for everyone to meet her.  

Then, the reply comes from the Beagle’s owner…and it’s clearly a scam.  This woman says she lives in Cameroon, works a lot of hours for an international conglomerate or whatever, and needs to ship her dog back to the United States.  But do not worry, because if I’ll only cover the following fees, jump through a couple legal hoops, and then await transport, this beautiful dog will be mine!  I know it’s bullshit right away, but still I wanted to respond in the hope that, somehow, it would all turn out to be legitimate.  I fought that urge and didn’t bother.  The whole situation is a punch in the gut.

I close her stupid email and sit there moping.  I’m almost crying.  An hour before, I wasn’t even looking for a pet, and I’m not looking for one now, yet there I was feeling teary-eyed and alone.  

While the dog in the photo may well exist somewhere, it’s certainly not Miss Cameroon’s to sell, and thus not mine to buy.  I’ll never post those pictures to Facebook, we’ll never go on those walks, and the hours we would’ve spent romping around the house will probably just be replaced by late-night television and snacking. 

It’s 6:30 in the morning and I’m sad at the loss of a dog I never had.  Crazy, that puppy love.

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