I’ll never forget that day. I’d been deep in the jungles of the Amazon for two weeks on business. When I flew back into the states I cleared customs and was walking to the baggage carousel. I remember whistling a jaunty tune as I was happy to be home, but people just stopped and stared at me. I finally ducked into the bathroom to make sure I wasn’t wearing a flaming clown wig or covered head to toe in blood. Nope. I was still the same boring, middle-aged white guy. As I washed my hands an elderly black gentleman quietly touched my shoulder, “I’m sooo sorry for your loss,” he said. I looked around, “My loss?” I repeated. He looked a little taken aback “Oh, You… you don’t know?” “Know what?” I said. He looked away, his eyes searching the floor and then he walked out without a word. I looked around, meeting the gaze of a Middle eastern man, who quickly averted his eyes. I dried my hands and walked out of the bathroom. I saw a group of young professionals in suits huddled together in a corner around a TV… they were openly weeping.
I slowly walked over afraid of what I might see on the TV, had another pretty young blond girl gone missing? Was a white baby in trouble? No, it was far worse. Wolf Blitzer looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Thats when I heard the news, Lil Squeaker, a stuffed duck/dog toy was missing. Its owner was the cutest 3 year old pug I’d even seen. The pugs name was Mr. Puddles, awwww! Mr. Puddles had reported Lil Squeaker missing two whole days ago but it had in fact been missing at that point for a total of five days! I just stood there in a fog of terror and disbelief.
The next week passed in a blur. I remember the day they called off the war so that both sides could join in the search and rescue operation. And then the unthinkable happened. The United Coalition forces found… I’m sorry… its still so hard to believe, but they found Lil Squeaker buried under the back porch of Mr. Puddles home. An autopsy was performed but before the results could be released the finger pointing started in the upper ranks of the Coalition forces and the war resumed, raging on even bloodier and more deadly than before. The death toll rose into the tens of thousands.
To this day no one knows what happened to Lil Squeaker, but perhaps when this terrible war ends we will all find out. Until then there will be an empty spot in our hearts and one lonely little pug searching for answers. Searching for answers and missing a friend.
