We were in crisis mode last night. Close to world ending, no less. Here's the story: The dog went out when Ron went out to get some work done on the garage. After about a half hour Ron came back in to get ready to leave for our planned evening and asked if I had let the dog in. I hadn't. So he went back out and called and whistled and hollered and whistled some more. No dog. I bundled up and went out. I hollered. (I can't whistle) I hollered some more. I walked around the block. I walked around two blocks. I hollered more. No dog. We still have quite a bit of snow on the ground and it's soft and slushy. Buster isn't fond of it, so he had limited places he would possibly go: All the streets in town. We jumped in the truck and drove through the neighborhood, and the next one. Past Pizza Ranch (with all those yummy garbage scraps that sometimes miss the dumpster and lie in the alley) Past the golf course (where during the summer there are unbelievably delicious smells for him) To the park (snow covered and uninviting). By now nearly an hour has past and we are late for our supper date. I am near hysteria thinking I couldn't possibly go out and leave him on his own outside. He hates being cold. Like I said, a crisis. He didn't even have his collar on because he wasn't supposed to have left our yard. We thought perhaps the next door neighbor may have let him in their house because sometimes he just runs over there for a visit with them. They are his second family. But they weren't even home. But when we pulled into the alley after our second around the immediate neighborhood drive, there he was standing on the back sidewalk, waiting for us. As if to say, "Hey, where have you guys been? I've been waiting to get inside. I'm cold". And that's as much as we know about where he may have disappeared to. Crazy dog. See if we don't keep him on a tether the next time he's out with one of us. Oh, and we were late for our supper date, but not so much so that we missed out on any food. Phew!
