A few
years ago, I went to New
Zealand. While there, I
went to visit an
especially beautiful
area, but my most
startling memory of the
place was not a mountain
or a lake, but of a
little lost dog. What
caught my attention and
caused me to stop and
stare at this poor little
dog was that he resembled
Li’le Fido
more than any other dog
that I had ever seen
before. The dog was
collarless and obviously
lost. He was sitting
quietly on a rock by a
lake and was in no
apparent distress. He
looked well-cared for and
was well groomed. He sat
there peacefully, as if
he was expecting to be
collected at any minute.
The area was quite
crowded and the
passers-by were concerned
about who this dog
belonged to and what we
could do to help him find
his way home. Naturally,
I was very taken with
him. Had I lived in New
Zealand, I would have
spirited him away and
taken him home –
totally willing to forget
about any trip that I had
planned! But sadly, I was
not at home and so could
not spirit him
anywhere. Instead, I
asked someone to take
some pictures of me with
the little dog.
Unfortunately, I did not
choose my photographer
well and only one picture
proved worth keeping. As
the picture was being
taken, I could feel
myself taking to
this dog and I knew that
if I stayed any longer, I
would either have to move
to New Zealand or smuggle
him into the U.S. Since
neither possibility was
practical, it was with
great sadness that I left
that little dog sitting
on his rock surrounded by
well-meaning people.
It is
amazing that after all
these years I find that I
am resembling my father
more and more, since
whenever I think about
that little lost dog, it
is his sad looking eyes
that I remember the most
and then a small sigh
escapes between my lips.
Now, remind me please,
what was I saying about
life being cruel at
times?
THE LOST
DOG
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