That moment when you think your dad forgot your birthday present

My dad got my brother and me a puppy when I was 10 or so, but a couple of weeks later it got stolen out of his car one day while he was having lunch with a friend. He left the puppy in the car with the windows open, this was in the 80s in California...so it was common to do, and someone stole the puppy out of the car...or it managed to jump out. Shortly after my dad got a better job in another part of the state, so we had to move a few weeks later.

My little brat brain, for some reason, thought my dad's story didn't add up...so I asked him if he got rid of the dog because we had to move. I don't think I ever saw my dad with so much hurt in his eyes. He quietly bowed his head and said no, that he would never do that, and didn't say another word as we drove home. I still remember the dozens of hand written LOST DOG signs he had in the car when I fucking asked too...

See...what I failed to understand at 10, but clearly remember now, was my Dad LOVED that dog. He couldn't have a dog growing up, and my mom was afraid of dogs...so he took the puppy to work. He fed him. He walked him. He did everything for him. It was HIS dog, not mine...not my brother's.

I try not to regret too many things in life, but not apologizing to my Dad for that is one of them. He died 7 years later, and I wasn't any less of a shit head at 17 than I was at 10.

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