I drove to pick up Serenity’s boyfriend the other day.
Charlie Dog was beside himself when he saw me.
He head butted me to pet him, over and over again. His whole body wagged with excitement and urgency. Then he raced through the open door and sniffed every car frantically with his wet nose, whining and barking in little desperate yips.
“I think this has got to be the last time,” his human mama said.
“He’s been sitting by the door howling and crying,” Charlie Dog’s mom furrowed her brows. “He’s never done that before. I think he misses Serenity.”
That’s when I learned that dogs can feel lovesick, just like humans.
When we got to the car, Charlie Dog jumped into the back seat without any hesitation, sniffing and sniffing to see if he could pick up Serenity’s scent.
I buckled him in and we drove to our house.
He stuck his snout out the window, letting the air stream over his face. When I turned onto our street, Charlie Dog went crazy. He started clawing at the car door and crying so mournfully it sounded human.
I let him out as soon as we pulled up to our house. Serenity was inside the house, on the other side of the front door. Charlie and I could both hear her barking her head off to greet us.
As soon as they saw each other, tails wagging faster the speed of light, they raced to the back door, bumping into each other, claws scrabbling on the kitchen floor.
I opened the back door to let them out.
Acting all aloof
Then something strange happened.
