Stray Dog

I took in a stray dog when my life wasn't up to par with the average, "happy" person's life. What exactly defines happy is beyond me, but I could tell this dog came no where near to learning any version of the definition.
I have no idea what this dog has been through.
Its ear seemed torn, it smelled of decrepit garbage, and it crawled with a limp of a broken down war vet. It came to me, so I felt I had to help.
I had an unholy amount of office work to do and my wife had left me just the other month, but this dog needed a home: something I at least still had.
I hadn't kept in contact with any of my old friends becuase of my job distracting me so much and, even when I do put all my efforts into my job, I've been constantly standing on thin ice with my boss as I continually garner warnings for not working to his liking. But I had a warm bed, unlike this poor dog.
I wondered if the dog had an owner before this. I mean, did it ever know what a good home felt like?
I like to imagine it did. I imagine that, once before, the dog had a comfortable bed to lie in a one time. I can see a young boy of maybe six years constantly fitting in time to play with this lovable dog. His memories are filled with nothing but good times and splendor. I know that family treated him right. They loved that dog.
That's what i'd like to believe though. But then again, here it is.
Maybe they just didn't have the funds to support an extra mouth. Maybe it ran away after chasing a car, or just to explore the world. Too much of a good thing can be harmful, right? Even when perfect?
All I know now is that i'm taking care of this god until it gets back to normal...or as normal as a stray dog can be.
In ways I'm envious of this poor thing.
It at least got the chance to experience happiness.
I've never had a chance to find that myself: even with my friends, or my paychecks, or even the "love" between my ex-wife and I. But this dog has experienced happiness. At last, that's what I'd like to believe.
I have to help this dog find happiness one more time. For his sake and my own.
I can never find it on my own, but maybe following this dog's footsteps back to euphoria will help me find a little bit of my own.
But for now, this dog is priority.

I can handle a bit more sorrow for the sake of this dog...at least, that's what I'd like to believe.