(A Doggy Christmas Story)
December 24th 2018, by Robert M. Katzman
Readers, believe what you want to believe. But this happened on Sunday December 16, 2018, in Chicago, at about noon.
Max is not an attractive dog.
A year and a half after the death of my wife Joyce, and the three old dogs who progressively had to leave our home as her cancer spread, I decided that it was long enough for me to live in a silent house in Wisconsin. A dog out there might agree with me, but which dog?
After visiting many shelters in Kenosha and beyond, and not connecting with any dog I saw, I went searching further afield in the Lonely Dog Metropolis of The Chicago Anti-Cruelty Society, at 510 South LaSalle Street.
Years ago, after being fired from a horrible job by a beastial boss who screamed obscenities into a phone when leaving messages for his quivering employees into their voicemail, and he soon discovered I was no good at all at quivering, I decided I may not be able to change my own luck, but perhaps I could change the fate of a soulful dog waiting for me there at the CACS, a couple of blocks away.Â
I hunted around for a while in my silent misery; saw a smallish black dog with a white chest about Beagle size, but a mutt.
(Read on …)