What a start

I had wanted to blog about so many things. Of how Christmas was, the significance of Boxing day to the Husby and me, or how the previous year has been in general. All that can wait. The loss of Monkey is a big blow to my family, perhaps more than any of us would have imagined it to be.

Monkey has not returned home since the 31st.

My mom believes he left home so he could die somewhere far from home. Good dogs do not die at home she says from her experiences. Part of me wish to scream and say this is totally untrue! Maybe Monkey met a friend and got carried away. But deep inside me I know the inevitable, Monkey is old, he is deaf in probably both ears, his legs are not longer strong and mighty as before and he may not survive long outside the comforts of home.

As bizarre as it sounds, I want to know that Monkey has passed away, and have him buried at home, not in some forsaken dump. The hardest part is perhaps never knowing what happened to him. Is he alive? Has he been adopted? Or did he get run over?

My dad has a different theory as to Monkey's disappearance which I shall not elaborate. But we all know one thing for sure, Monkey has never left home for so long before.

The pain is unbearable at times. I can only imagine how bad it must be for my parents.

I choose to believe that Monkey is off to someway better, even though we are not certain of what actually happened. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions, and maybe my papa will call and say We found him! I don't know what to make of it anymore. I just wish Monkey would come home.