Imagine your favorite shoes.
A beautiful pair of BCBG's that you have eyeballed in the store many times.
Finally you decide to treat yourself to the shoes because you are that in love with them.
My dear friend Jessica came over Saturday night and left her shoes in the living room while we all chilled in the sun room and relaxed over some wine.
A couple of hours passed and Jess was getting ready to leave. She went to get her shoes and could only find one. So her and I began to look under couches, tables, chairs. We were even lifting up cushions.
Then Jess asked the dreaded question..."What about Archie."
In most instances of a missing shoe, Archie would be the first thing we'd turn too. However, this evening, we were all out in the sun room (including the dog) all night, so I assumed there was no way Archie could of got them.
I took a look in the back yard and there was a trail of shoe. A trail of glorious brown leather, other parts and pieces. Then I saw the remains.
Damn, did I feel like shit.
I offered to buy a new pair of shoes, I offered to kick the dog a few times, anything to help ease the pain of the loss.
I can not wait for Archie to get out of this psycho puppy stage. He will be 1 next month, and I think another 6 months and we should be good.
Hopefully I will still have friends by then.