I feel better now, Goldie’s home, safe and sound. All yesterday afternoon and last night, I was praying, “God forgive me, please bring Goldie home OK.” Over and over and over. It was my last thought before going to sleep, and my first thought when I woke up.

Yesterday, just fooling around, I put a leash on Goldie. He freaked out super bad. I let the leash go as soon as he started freakin,’ because the thing usually falls off of Lenny, but not this time. Goldie ran off in the woods, got the leash tangled in the bush, and almost got strangled. When I made it back to him, (I cut right through the thorny bush, bloody legs and ankles be damned) he was ready to pass out. His tongue and gums looked purple.

The wife was there, the whole time, she cut through the bush too, but she was more careful, and didn’t get all cut up like I did. She knew I felt so terrible, she hardly got mad, and was reassuring me he’d be OK.

I got the leash off, and held him a few minutes while he gasped for air. Then he struggled down, and took off. He didn’t show for supper last night, but he was here this morning, right as rain.

Last night I felt terrible, I felt like a truly bad person, to the core. I am so thankful he was here this morning. I’m still thinking I might be a truly bad person. A bad person doesn’t think they’re an bad peson and can’t really know they’re a bad person, right? Maybe this is an indicator of my true nature.

I will never forget it as long as I live.