No, Really

I’m still watching and still thinking about the abandoned puppy in what used to be the magical room-with-a-view. Right now, after another long nap, he’s looking for bugs in the cracks of the deck.

This was the safe room, the room that made us all feel vicariously secure;  the puppies would be exquisitely taken care of.  They would be clean, and comfortable, padded and fed and watched.  I’m so disappointed.  Why should the cam be on this lone pup?  It’s like one hand clapping.

Last night’s desultory feeding was a quick affair.  The bowl went down, the bed got straightened, the jeans left the room without touching the puppy, and I’ll have to say the puppy seemed more interested in his food than he was in finally seeing his owner.  Then the jeans came in again and took away the dish.  The pup strolled around a bit, made a few desultory passes at his toys, wandered around outside on the deck, and then went back to bed.  Did somebody play with him later?  Has the work situation changed?  Is this puppy me?  Am I alone?  Is the big guy, and the wife, not the people we thought?  Have they abandoned all of us?  Sucked us in, imported us, and then left the premises?

Of course where they are or what they’re not doing is not my business.  Except, wait, I’m thinking.  The most important fact is on my computer screen.  They are not there. They are not there for all the world to see.   I’m going to bed.  The puppy is trying to leap over the outside railing, and he’s eating bugs for dinner.


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