[Thanks to Deb Whittam for the idea. I invite my readers to riff on this on because I think I barely scratched the surface. As usual, if you post something especially witty, it will be cheerfully plagerized]
Why did my dog run away? Maybe because…
He was imaginary and the meds are FINALLY WORKING.
I accidentally fed him dog food made for older dogs and he got arthritis.
He is taking a sabbatical from being a dog and is a cockatoo in the West Indies until February.
All I could offer him was food, shelter and love. My neighbor offered him a chance to manage a four-star hotel in San Diego.
He thought I was patronizing him.
He wanted to live in a district with better obedience schools.
A Vietnamese restaurant opened next door and he doesn’t like Vietnamese food.
I started playing a fife.
He developed mental problems and couldn’t go to a psychoanalyst because he wasn’t allowed on the couch.
I stupidly let him watch Bound for Glory.
He felt that he was a coyote trapped in a terrier’s body.
I was petting him asking “Who’s a good dog? WHO’S a good dog?” but, before I could say, “You are!”, my brother called and I got sidetracked.
He felt that he and I had done all we could do with the game of Fetch.