Yet again I don't get a chance to rant about something that I was going to rant about because the real world kicked in and it just shows that some things just suck.

I missed a phone call last night from my little sister because it was really late. So this morning I get in touch to see what is wrong.

In general a late night phonecall from a family member means either they are drunk and lost or something bad happened.

Turns out this was the latter.

For about seven years now we have had a little dog in the family home. Officially he was the sister's dog, Max Power for a hilarious name, but as generally happens he became a family member. He would plod about the house, drop down on shoes or bags and sleep, scratch at your bedroom door so that you would open it and he could dart in and claim your bed for his own.

In general he was another member of the family, complete with his own little quirks. One that everyone was glad to see (and one of the things I missed when I moved out).

Last night he was taken from the back garden of my mam's house.

This garden is fairly big, with three solid concrete walls on three sides of it topped off with a house on the forth. There is no side gate entrance to it. In fact the only way to get into the garden without going through the house first is to get into a neighboring garden and climb over the wall. There is no way at all a tiny little dog could climb over the wall and there are no "Great Escape" style tunnels anywhere to be found.

Which means this person had to actually want to get Max, want to climb over one wall, then another, to get the poor little guy.

There was no attempt at getting into the house, it was literally over the wall and grab the dog.

Many things about this make me feel sick.

My lil sis is really upset over it, because after all it was her dog that she has just lost.

Max is the most playful dog I have ever seen. He runs around, jumps up at you and barks constantly for attention. That's not the sort of thing a person that wants to steal a dog generally likes. So how he is being treated now is a big worry.

He was only after getting his paw looked at by the vet and was on a course of pills for it. So not only is he after getting taken but he is in pain as well.

To be brutally honest I would rather have gotten a phonecall saying he had died, as that would be easier to handle than thinking about how scared he is, how he is being treated, etc.

Out in the world there are a number of different types of people. Whoever took our dog is the sort of person that can trace their family tree directly to slugs and slime without too much hassle.

As long a shot as this is, if anybody gets offered a white terrier that responds to the name of Max give me a shout.


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