I don't really hate my dog

It's pretty easy to say you hate something.

"I hate cleaning the house, I hate telling anyone more than once to do something, I hate rainy days, I hate peas." There, that was easy.

But saying it and feeling it are different things. Do I really hate peas? They've never done anything to warrant my hate. I actually don't mind them in Chinese food. So hate might be wrong word when I describe how I truly feel about peas.

One of the cushions on the couch Ozzie's laying
on in this picture became his dinner.

I've cursed at our family dog more than once. He's a beagle and has chewed and clawed through our basement door and eaten a couch pillow. He's also incapable of going to the washroom in his own backyard so Heather and I take him on daily walks so he can do his business. Yes, we've both said, "I hate that dog" on more than one occasion.

Two nights ago though hate was the last thing on our minds concerning Ozzie when it became apparent to everyone he was gone. The damn dog went AWOL while we were ferrying kids off to soccer and softball games.

We didn't notice he was even gone until we were putting the kids to bed. Ozzie regularly takes his spot at the foot of my son Tavish's bed and when I called out to him he didn't respond. How could he when he was up the street at a neighbour's house eating a sausage and enjoying a new fluffy bed? Unbelievable.

While the dog was enjoying the company of strangers I was out wandering through the neighbourhood calling out for a dog who couldn't hear me from his comfortable digs at our neighbour's house. I kept thinking the worst, it was cold, it was rainy and then I remembered the cars. What if he had gotten hit and was laying dead in a gutter? Or worse, what if he got hit and was in agony laying in a gutter? My mind was making me worry but when I got home with no dog at the end of the leash it wasn't difficult to tell I wasn't the only one concerned. The kids were in tears and by the look in my wife Heather's eyes she was as worried as me was about the dog.

The next morning the kids were in tears again and when I got to work I posted a Facebook and Twitter request for people to keep an eye out for Ozzie. Kristen Calis even put a warning on her Kristen's Kritters blog at durhamregion.com. Everyone was concerned for a little dog who had no worries at all because he was having the time of his life.

Ozzie returned from his vacation in the afternoon when our neighbour's called us to say it was time for him to check out. The relief I felt was real and so welcoming when I saw the little dog sitting at home wagging his tail. The look in his eyes said, "Hey, you're not going to believe the time I had last night." I wanted to kill him but instead I just hugged him. He's so dumb he didn't even know we were worried sick about him.

Yes, I admit, I say I hate the dog more often than I should. But I don't really hate him. I just dislike many of his bad habits. I am officially going to take 'hate' out of my vocabulary.