As we settle into the second day full day of the separation of Ellie B aka Dogamous Pyle and the backyard gopher, the sniffing and scratching continues.
And my beloved 3 1/2-year-old rescue mutt looks up at me with puppy dog eyes again and seems to say: Where did my furry friend go?
On Saturday, as you may recall, I thought my dear wife Karen and I had solved Ellie B’s June swoon when the varmint at last went for the fruit and vegetable in the humane trap, the spring-loaded door set down, and we drove it to its new home out of this Syracuse city neighborhood of Eastwood.
So again this morning, just like all day yesterday, Ellie B has been sniffing under the shed. She’s been running around the shed. She’s been staring over the plywood we’ve positioned so she’s can’t trap herself in the small space at the back of the shed.
Where, oh, where, has the gopher gone, her eyes say to me as I sit in my red plastic Adirondack chair watching all of this, and telling her to snap out of it.
He was no good for you, Ellie B. Remember that last fight? He assaulted you. No father could let that happen again, ever.
But we only ever had two big fights, the dog’s sad eyes tell me.
Ellie B, I say. You never did anything together. You stayed all coiled up on the porch, watching him eat stuff on the lawn and teasing us with his impertinence. Most of the time, if you tried to get near him, he ran away.
She’ll get over it, I tell myself, shaking my head.
A lovesick dog, missing a gopher that I thought she despised as much as I did.
Tell us about a situation that may have had immediate ramifications completely opposite of what you thought they’d be. Has your pet ever fell for another critter, and how’d you shake them out of it? What would you do to put Ellie B at ease?