Top this Slaw: One day in 1972 I came home and found my two dogs gone from the yard. I went to the pound (as they used to be called) every day looking for them, but no Reddy or Belle Isle (as in the Dylan song on Self Portrait). I was heartbroken. A week after they disappeared, Reddy showed up on the porch, hungry and thirsty, but alive! A week later Belle did too.
Their sudden disappearance remained a mystery for years, until the now-ex’s sister let it slip that the ex had "gotten mad" at me, driven the two dogs up to the reservoir above San Jose, pushed them out of the car, and driven away, leaving the poor little guys up in the Santa Cruz Mountains, fifteen miles from home. They had both somehow found their way back home!
I’m thankful I didn’t at the time learn what she had done---I might still be in prison for killing her, strangling the life out of her with my bare hands. I'm an extremist on animal rights---I'm in favor of the death penalty for animal abusers.