A Letter to the Man Who Took My Dog

This isn't really a funny letter. Sorry.

Gregory Bognar
56779 Joseph Lane
South Bend, IN 46619

Dear Mr. Bognar,

This is going to sound a little strange. Well, it will think a little strange, unless you're reading it out loud. You see, I'm not sure if you are who I think you are. We may have met once, and if so that means I was only at your house one time about 5-6 years ago. I just guessed on the house and address based on my memory, which is usually perfect. One time I had to explain the Kreb's Cycle to my girlfriend for her biology class in college, based only on a lecture I heard freshmen year of high school. But I digress, Greg. My question is, do you have my dog, Katie?

5-6 years ago my mother gave my dog away to some guy because my siblings and I had gone to college and she didn't want to walk her anymore. She was a chow/German Shephard mix named Katie. She had rusty brown hair, a long bushy tail and a light underside. She loved to dance and could shake hands and if you left the butter on the kitchen table she would climb on the chair to eat it when you went to school in the morning.

It occurred to me recently that my dog has probably died already, but I still thought that if I tracked you down you might be able to tell me how she is or was. She was a real dog. First of all, the long hair. All real dogs have long hair. She also had jaws that could strip metal off a Buick. One time we were rough-housing out back and she found a rabbit. Tore through it like it was crepe paper. She weighed over 30 lbs - a prerequisite for any real dog. If it's under 30 lbs you're just feeding a large rat. Of course, I'm sure after a year with you she probably weighed 100 lbs. I saw you giving your other animals hot dogs for treats! I didn't say anything at the time, but pethood obesity is no laughing matter, Greg. It destroys hundreds of families a year.

I'm just yanking your chain, mostly. I wouldn't have let you take her if I didn't think you loved animals. Even if your pool did take up 80% of the backyard. Listen, if Katie had a good life, please just write me a quick note and let me know she did OK. I hope she didn't miss me very much. God, I miss that dog. I'd probably kill upwards of 200 people to get that dog back. That's not a threat, I'm just thinking wistfully.

Take Care,

The Correspondent