A Death Day Miracle.

Last night, I was going to my friend’s place. One of the houses on his block had a very odd front porch. I got out of Rod’s car, because I don’t know how to drive, and walked toward the general direction of my friend’s house. That’s when we saw a guy, in the distance, with a flashlight. He’s scurrying around moving towards my left with an odd, unpredictable pace. Before I knew where he was headed, he scurried right into the house. Yet, his flashlight was still on; dimly lighting the porch.

I wait. And I watch.

Like a shit horror movie fake-out, Rod says, “Hey Andy! Look at that.” Pointing to the front porch of the house. Then, predictably, came the real jump scare, in the form of a very life-like Michael Myers costume. Glaring at us with a beam of “I’m not real”. I look at Rod, and I laugh.

We hear someone in the distance scream.

The scream got progressively louder and louder and, closer and closer. But then, out of the corner peeked a hopeless man screaming his dog’s name. We stop and talk to him, to see if we can help, he describes his dog to us and keeps moving around the block. Rod and I decided to not help him with that pursuit.

The next day, I woke up feeling like my brain wanted to lie in its bed all day. I mustered up the courage and went to the gym in hopes that my brain would get out of its rebellious phase. But mostly because there was a date later that I wasn’t looking forward to. No-fault of the person I was going out with.

I came home, procrastinated as much as I could. Then, before I knew it, I was in my Sunday best, smelling good and walking the mile and a half to the restaurant. On the way, something caught my eye. It was a poster of a missing dog named “Kylo”. There was a campaign too, “Help bring Kylo Home”. Still guilty about last night, I decided to take a picture.

3 hours later, I get home.

My Laptop is freaking out because I decided to pump 4 years worth of footage, from 3 hard drives, into one. So, I give in to the temptation that is “Lady Laziness” and decide to re-vamp my tinder.

I look at the images, and I recall the lost dog picture. In a moment of vanity, I decided to put it as my first image with my bio as




“Help get this dog home”.


“I don’t own the dog”.

“This is not a weird Tinder Ploy.”


“This is not a weird Tind—”

“This is not a–”

“This is—”


Deletes all pictures of self.


Then I realize, what if this is a giant scam? I would be actively aiding in terrible behavior. I delete my Tinder for the 1000th time and look up the Facebook page.

Under the about section, I saw.

“On June 12th, 2019 around 6pm, Kylo, an extremely friendly male Alaskan Malamute, went missing from us about 1.5 miles up from the TH on the West Grouse Creek trail in Minturn, CO.

Kylo is about 110 lbs, black and white with a long coat. He is both neutered and microchipped.

There are many possibilities as to what may have happened. Due to his friendly nature, it is possible Kylo was picked up and someone currently has him. It is also possible Kylo is still roaming somewhere in the mountains, as the area is very vast and these dogs can cover a lot of ground. He has been missing for a while, so he could have wandered anywhere in Colorado or be anywhere else in the US at this point depending on what may have happened.”

What caught my eye were two all caps headings,




That’s when my urge to go on an adventure far greater than my current waking life made me whisper to myself. “Let the game begin”.

I scroll to find a post by the owner titled “A celebration to Kylo’s life”. And I thought “Oh! He was found! This is great!” followed by a thought that often follows great discoveries, “Hey, let’s make a documentary about this”.

Then I forced myself to realize that this is not MY story. I don’t have any right to tell it.

The very existence of this article makes my sentiment a complete contradiction.

Kept Scrolling.

I see another post titled “WE FOUND HIM!” with pictures of Kylo and the owners together.

I leaped up in joy. It’s a Death Day miracle!

“It is with an — I must inform everyone that we have recovered Kylo.”

I thought, “Weird sentence, but okay”.

“He has crossed the rainbow bridge *rainbow emoji*”

My condescending attitude, “I hate that. But I appreciate the effort.”

“and has joined much of his pack who is with the angels.”

That’s when it made sense.

“It is with an extremely heavy heart that I must inform everyone that we have recovered Kylo. He has crossed the rainbow bridge and has joined much of his pack who is with the angels”.




Two more emojis.

I’m upset. A little because my would-be documentary would not have a good ending anymore but completely because they didn’t know that the last time they saw Kylo was going to be the very last time they saw him alive.

I see this post from a lady from Atlanta maybe, asking for help finding her dog. I laugh a little and then empathize with her. I laugh because she put a local problem in a Facebook group, that is the exact opposite of her “local”.

Then I saw another. Utah this time. I thought to myself, “Ha! More than one, this is great.”

And another.

Then I saw success stories. Stories about people finding their dogs through the group and through the public. Then I saw articles from local papers and magazines about other success stories. In the midst of it all, more posts about more missing dogs. Ohio, New Jersey, Texas, Florida.

I go back to the unread, “We found him”, post. Right at the very bottom, what my gleam of condescension and inflated ego forgot to see was, “Feel free to use this as a platform to find your dogs.”




Death gave new hope and a new beginning.





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