UNITED STATES—I checked the bedroom for li’l Baby DeVille, and he was nowhere to be seen. Not in the bathroom was the short-haired Jack Russel Chihuahua mix to be found, not in the kitchen, nor under the coffee table. With each new perspective on his absence more and more concrete poured into me. It was ghastly, the absence of his perky presence.

And times like this all the assurances of the dog savvy people weren’t worth a hill of maggot-ridden beans. Wow, maybe Lupe had devoured him, Lupe being DeVille’s pit bull blended companion. Of course this was ludicrous, but in stressed-to-the point-of-breaking tension the series of validations that he had vanished dug a pit in my heart. What they say about dog’s being family is true.

Now with that pit of remorse filled with molten lead and grow

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