Real Fur For Real?

It seems like everyone in our condo building has a dog, so Wendy thought she would get me a dog too. Wendy knows that my days are long and lonely, and that a dog would keep me company and give me plenty to do.

Yeah, it'll give you something to 'do' all right, like picking up dog doo-doo and vacuuming dog hairs.

One day, out of the blue, Wendy showed up at the condo with a Spaniel. It wasn't a Cocker Spaniel, an angry little breed of ankle biters of which I'm familiar with, but a Royal Cloaker Spaniel. It turns out that the Royal Cloaker Spaniel is a royal Egyptian breed.

In honour of the dog's heritage I wanted to name it Anwar Sadat, but Wendy wouldn't go for it. I then suggested Hosni Mobarkat but, again, Wendy ixnayed the name. We finally decided on Rover although when Wendy's not around I still call the dog Anwar. Please don't tell her about this. Oh, I suppose it doesn't really matter now (sigh)....

Anwar ran away.

Last week I was walking Anwar in Allan Gardens and he managed to get off his leash. He took off and I never saw him again. I looked high and low, every day, for a week but no sigh of Anwar. I put up signs but still no luck. Yesterday I decided to go back one more time in case anyone had seen him. I spoke to a couple of women who I often see in the park near the fenced off dog park area, One of women was named Cruella De Something-or-other (I think she was Romanian). Odd name. Anyway she curtly claimed that she never saw my dog and then walked away rather briskly.

It's weird but I had a strange sense that Anwar was nearby yesterday. I felt that Cruella knew something but wasn't telling me the truth. I guess I'll never know.