Fips Takes a Pad About

There was a light knock on the door. "Oh shit," I muttered, annoyed at being interrupted at work. It was the Complex's gardener. "Are you missing a dog?" he asked.

Missing a dog?? Why would I be missing a dog? I took a quick look under my desk. No Fips. I took a quick feel of the jumble of doggie blankets and pillows on the floor. One Rosco. No Fips. Why the hell, am I looking around here? I berated myself.

"I couldn't tell, if it was yours or not," said the gardener

"Well just show me," I said impatiently as I headed out the door, "Where is he?"

"He didn't have a collar; it looked like yours, but seemed fuzzier."

"Where is he?"

"A lady brought him over but we couldn't tell...."

Ah yes.... it was one of those stomach-knot moments.

"Where is he?"

The gardener pointed to the grassy pic-nic area, and there in the distance I saw woman kneeling down and an unmistakable fuzzy shape.

He won't budge, the woman said, as Fips jumped up and started getting all frisky.

"We thought it might be yours," the gardener said.

The woman was Kim, a next door neighbor whom I some time cross paths with as she walks her shaggy dog in the evening.

"I thought it might be yours," Kim said, "but he acted older. I was going to take him to Dr. Smith's but he wouldn't move."

As it turns out, a handyman who was putting up a new gate at Kim's house saw Fips walking slowly down the middle of the road. He called to him, and Fips, always up for a "hello," came over. Thinking he might be a stray, the handyman offered Fips some food, but Fips wasn't hungry. "That's when I figured he belonged to someone."

The handyman called Kim, who yoo-hoo'd across the street to Jim -- "who knows everything" -- and who said, "Oh yes, he belongs to that guy in the Complex".

Kim put a leash around Fips, but he would not be moved; so she carried him over. "Boy, he's heavier than he looks." "I know," I said.

Rosco many times, but Fips has never wandered off like this, and I couldn't for the life of me figured out how it happened. But it had.

I profusely thanked all concerned: the handyman, Kim and the gardener. Then I walked home, with Fips trotting merrily and hip hopping at my heels.

"Boy, look at him now," Kim said.

I smiled.

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