Come home, Bully

It's Sunday morning and still no Bully. I am beside myself. We're on our way to Kinko's to copy posters. My ad is on five mushing list-serves. We're offering a reward. We've combed the neighbourhood. Friends have even looked. I've called the pound/shelter and the vet clinics. I couldn't sleep last night because every time I'd close my eyes I'd see old Bull. I watched the entire third season of Sex and the City instead. It's a nice distraction. I worked last night and, ladies, if you ever want to see an office full of men squirm, start crying uncontrollably.
I'll keep you all posted.
Peace.