Last week, we thought that we had lost someone very dear to us; our boxer.
We put her in the yard because we were showing the house and had to leave. When I got home, there was no dog at the fence to greet me. Bewildered, I checked the yard-still no dog.The gate was closed and the yard is fenced. Starting to panic, I called my husband at work and he came home immediately.
We discovered a low place in the fencing where a tree limb had fallen. Although she has arthritis, it was conceivable that she jumped it, especially since there are lots of cats in the neighborhood (her sworn enemies). However, we also considered the fact that someone had stolen her. Hard to believe because she is very territorial.
We spent hours combing the neighborhood; with a sick pit in our stomachs. She is not the sharpest knife in the drawer and if she had gotten out, she could get lost very easily. She is also an inside dog and doesn’t know about the big world. We put signs up all over the neighborhood, and talked to every dog owner that was out walking. Finally, at dusk we gave up, although both of us kept restlessly going to the back door to stand on the porch and listen. My husband who is not one to talk about his feelings said it very well,
“I feel like I have lost a child”. I agreed.
In the middle of the night, Jim and I both woke up out of a sound sleep. Without saying anything, he got out of bed, and I listened to him standing in the kitchen in the dark. As I got up too, I heard him open the porch door, still listening. When he came back inside, before he could say anything, I said
“You are not crazy, I heard it too.”
He said, “I thought I heard her bark”
“I know, so did I” I replied.
I felt my way though the dark to the front door and opened it. Nothing.
“Heck with the neighbors” I thought, and called her name as loudly as I could.
She came running out of the darkness and up the steps. We flipped on the lights, and our exclamations of joy woke up all of the kids. She was completely unhurt, although very thirsty. We couldn’t hug her enough and we were crying with happiness. She collapsed on the rug and slept for the next 24 hours, waking only to drink some water and make quick trips to the backyard. However, it took three days for her to go into the back on her own-before that, we had to go out with her. Her adventures seemed to be more that she bargained for.
My son articulated what we all were thinking. “I wish she could tell us what she was doing all of that time.” It doesn’t really matter; she is back. Thank you God.