Perra Perdida

Though I know she would be sympathetic, my friend (and future publicist) Lisa might say this is great material, but I’m sick of great material. We just arrived home from a two-week stint in California (replete with 20-year high school reunion, baby shower, time with both sets of grandparents, and String Cheese at the Greek with all of our fabulous freaks) to find out that our dog Café ran off Saturday night during a regular potty outing. This, of course, is the last thing we ever expected to come home to. We’ve called and whistled, talked to all the neighbors, postered all over town, and blanketed all expat acquaintances with emails . . . A few people say they saw her this past weekend and that the local kids were feeding her, but that was days ago. We’re devestated to say the least. With all the responsibilities we have here, it’s just getting so much harder to travel back and forth between two countires and trust that all will be as it was when we return. We’ve been lucky so far, I guess. My daily mantra says that bliss cannot be disturbed by gain or loss. I haven’t quite learned to embrace or believe that yet. Maybe I wasn’t in a state of bliss to begin with. Sometimes I think living here was easier when I could drink! The reality is that no matter how I try to look at it, a member of our family is missing and there is a big void around here. I’m trying to fill it with positivity but, like I said, a glass – or bottle, rather – of wine would help!