i have not had too many pets of my own. when i was a lad a had a hamster, whose name i can not remember (forgive me o’ nameless bundle of twitching cuteness). he died quite quickly after becoming my ward. i remember wrapping him in a wash cloth and bringing him down the block to the churchyard. i buried him under some shrubs near the iron fence around the church parking lot. was a very sombre affair. being at that time scrotum deep in catholic school assured a suitably dark and weighty mood, wash cloth and parking lot or not. dead pets are sad. i’ve got two cats now and don’t want to think about that. but what about “lost pets?”

lost pets are legion. lost pets are at this very moment roaming the lands, sniffing shadowy crevasses, skulking and scurrying every which way. but are they miserable and scared searching desperately for that particular pant leg scent that will lead them home? or are they rather exultant, sharing stories down at the train yards about their daring escape, their animal cunning which fecilitated their newfound freedom? are they going to whither, their survival instincts flabby and foreign from years of hand feeding? or are they rather out there, invigorated, living fast and perhaps dying as they dreamt they might, in a blaze of predatory glory? i don’t have a clue.

i imagine birds whose wings are not clipped and manage the jailbreak must do o.k. not sure if parrots living in minnesota have a chance or not. cats who don’t have their nails clipped might fair alright joining the roving mobs of strays, competing in beat-itesque dance-offs with rival gangs in evening alleys. who knows. dogs? i think dogs can generally handle themselves. again, not really sure what happens to our furry and feathered friends when they find themselves, by design or dumb luck, out there in the great wide world.

i know what happens to the owners of these pets though. they get frantic, search in spaces too high up, too small, too cold, too absurd, hoping against hope to find hide or hair. they may perhaps become angry and paranoid feeling sure that someone must have broken in and stolen their loyal and goofily named friend. when all else fails they cobble together a “lost pet” sign (perhaps realizing for the first time that they did not in fact take many pictures of their friend), offer a reward (balancing what they can afford with what their loved one is worth to them), and hope for the best.

as it happens a book was published not too long ago called lost. lost and found pet posters from around the world. as it also happens i own said book and as accompaniment to my ramblings i present a few of them below-

aw. if any of you simply can not imagine any of these lost pets as happy escapees but instead are overwhelmed with visions of their possibly sad fates and hence feel brought down and mopey from this post i offer the antidote. kitten photos. yes that’s right i am about to post kitten photos on the nonist. below you will find my own two boys, when they were still spastic little stinkers, who are napping safe and sound at this very moment-

meet newton. named after isaac. he is a grunting, dirty, possessive, proud little monster who is built like a bull. he will eat anything and his favorite activity is standing between me and his brother henry.

meet henry. named after mr. miller. he is a fluffy, chunky, doe eyed, meek little fellow who loves him some whipped cream. i am personally of the belief he is an alien arrived from space who infiltrated my household in order to study the human race. seriously.