THE WORST 38 MINUTES OF MY LIFE ...That I can remember

Every Morning when I get to work Baja gets out of what ever mode of transportation we took to get there. Bicycle trailer, motorcycle or the less exciting van like we took today. As I unlock the door she makes her way to one end of the parking lot to sniff what ever dogs sniff. As I go inside to start wheeling out bikes she makes her way to the other end of the parking lot. This morning I had to piss and by the time I came out with my first bike I was oblivious to the fact that she was not any where near where she always knew to be. She was gone. Dog gone. After the second bike was wheeled out I registered that she was not herding my heels and watching out for the things that a heard dog watches out for when her master is maneuvering motorcycles through a 30" door. This has happened before as A free range dog will often wonder in to the neighbors shop if the door is open and she so inclines to visit. I checked. Not there. I walked up the street a few houses but I knew she would never wander. I knew she had been snatched. I have seen it nearly happen several times before. She is friendly to greet a car that pulls up into our parking lot just like her mother and all the other collie pups we raise on my parents ranch. City life is not the same as ranch life and some do-gooder people don't really think about what good they are actually doing to their surroundings. I called the automated city animal control. I called the police dispatch and left the needed info. Black and white, No collar, no tracking chip. Please call me back. My heart sank deeper than any lost object sucked into any black hole in all of unknown space. I sat by the sidewalk like a piece of road kill and felt the worst feeling I have felt for such a long time. 11 1/2 years of a collie dog that is beyond words. A true best friend.  A long life by the standards I have implemented upon my companion. It has not been easy at my side. The crashes. The all weekend fetch sessions. The RC toy chasing. The whiskey riddled songs I sing with my broken 6 string. Fuck, the women, The hot vans. for the love of kibbles and bits. It has been a good long trip. The thoughts behind my melting face as I watched the cars pass by. This morning I felt such shit. Such total and complete shit. I accepted my irresponsible ways. Fuck collars. Fuck not letting my country dog prowl her own damn parking lot. fuck it all. And then I saw an animal control police vehicle, I ran out in front of it causing it to swerve off the road. The officer said he had just picked up a dog. black and white. Could I be so lucky. Did he have my dog in his truck. I peered into the dark tinted window and through the caged door of a tiny kennel I saw two  sad big brown eyes meet mine. WHEW!  I finally lost it. I hugged the officer three times. He gave me the number of the people who picked her up. I had visions of my fist breaking jaws before but now that my best friend was back with me I let my nerves wind back together. I lay on the floor of my shop and let her saliva become sticky and then dry upon my face. I called and a lady said that her daughter had picked her up and wanted to talk to me. both the mother and the officer had said how my dog was wanted to be contained by another. The instant gratified teenage girl wanted what was not hers. Is it like some game they play on their shiney balck rectangle? Is this justified to the mind of a self centered do-gooder. brainless. My door was wide open not 30 feet from where she was snatched. The entitled teenager voice on the phone sent shivers down into my ranting raving anti humanism good deed hating deep dark corner of my soul. She reprimanded me to go to wallmart where they sell dazzled collars with names. I reminded the young lady that with out dog snatching my smarter than the two of us dog needed no such dignity defying device. but thank you for letting you mom call the animal control. thank you just the same. and have a good day. you too. I fear I dont belong in such a time or society. I fear the City cant contain my capitalistic venture that allows me some freedumb in our world of corporate power and currency obedience. But those brown eyes are all I need to see to know that to be free we only need what we need. Nothing more. Our world is just what we make it. Emotion aside and inside all I need is what I got. Companonship. A loud motorcycle or two.  Some tasty nuggets. And Love. Love in all the different ways people dish it out. Love.