Moustache Unplugged #19

hehehe...undetected, I seize the moment to work on my letter....

Dearest Nyx,

With devastating sadness, I learned about your tortuous death.  Simply thinking about your final hours of suffering here on Earth brings me to a level of utter disbelief. Oh, how you must have innocently questioned what was happening to you as the scorching heat became more and more oppressive. As temperatures soared, your body methodically shut down as you patiently waited for your savior. 

He never came.





No doubt you woke up on July 9th like most days. A super-wide yawn accompanying a big stretch while emerging from your bed to plod around the house looking for your #1.  Cracking the bedroom door open, you nuzzle his hand and are let outside where you stall, lift your big black Lab nose high into the air and snort the morning's freshness. You notice where a rabbit stayed in the grass as you wander around doing the ritual security check of the property while remembering to go to the bathroom in private, inconspicuous places.  Satisfied all is well, you amble back to the door to be let inside for the same ol' bowl of boring dog food that has not changed in flavor for years and years.  Upon crunching up the dry kibble, your huge tongue licks the bowl tasteless and then rinses it all down with hearty gulps of water.  As drips cascade from your lips and dot the kitchen floor, you hustle out the door and, as always, eagerly jump into the K9 police car to head off to work.

As the tires roll down the rural Wyoming roadway, you press your nose to the cracked window to further investigate the day's new odors. In perpetual motion, your big tail heavily bangs around in the back seat as a genuine display of your sheer happiness. You nearly smile in delight with your job.  In fact, you don't consider it a job. You love your life hanging out with your #1 and doing anything and everything to make him happy. 

He tells you to sniff and find particular sources of hidden odors and you eagerly oblige. You've been detecting drugs for years and love the praise received when you perform to expectations.  Pleasing your #1...that's your sole goal in life, your devoted duty of unwavering dedication.

You arrive at the police station at 0600 hours and, although you're allowed in the building, he elects to keep you in the car. He's scheduled to train another officer and leaves the car running, with the air conditioning off and the windows up.  He disappears through a door as you stare out the window with your eyes glued to the very door where he will soon emerge.

A hour passes.

And another.

And another. Discomfort is felt, but ignored, as the coolness of early morning shifts to the beginning heat of another hot summer day.

Another hour passes.  You're thirsty as you continue to monitor that door. Outside, it's reaching 86 degrees as the heat inside the car is becoming unbearable.

Another hour passes with your eyes fixated on the door. You don't judge. You simply are dedicated to patiently and quietly wait for your #1.  He always returns and you embrace the thought of him emerging through that door.

Another hour passes.  You're horribly thirsty as your body weakens, but you strain and struggle to keep constant surveillance on that door knowing he'll come any minute now.

You muster strength to fight and stand guard on the door with tacky eyelids trying to blink over scratchy eyeballs. You lose strength, stagger and lie down, forever.

Finally, at 1220 hours, your #1 comes to discover your lifeless body.

You're buried on his property and he is charged with animal cruelty. You honored him, loyally served him and...he pleads not guilty to his gross negligence. What a colossal insult and disservice to you!  You expected him to "man-up" and admit to his actions while groveling for mercy.  But, instead of him honoring you and admitting to his failure, he insults you with his cowardly plea. Yet, unbelievably, you have already forgiven him.

Sure, there are details unknown to me about the incident, but what possibly can excuse not checking on you for 6 hours and 20 minutes? That extreme lapse in time is overwhelming evidence of how you ranked in his life's priorities.  And, just think only a few walls and doorways separated him from you while you slowly suffered to death. Shame, shame!

The crazy thing is, because you are man's best friend, you still love him.  We are not worthy of such admiration.

This word isn't in your vocabulary or understanding, but, it's in mine and you have every right to feel the same way about your hideous death and his spineless plea.

DISGUSTED!

I salute you,
The Moustache