Lost dog

Posted by & filed under the puppy diaries.

This morning my friend Dot couldn’t do our regular walk.  So, that meant me handling two dogs.  At first I contemplated just taking Koda on the mountain’s Pine Hill Trail (the outdoor stairmaster).  But when I got down to the mudroom they were both so excited I couldn’t leave one behind.

So I decided to head back to our quiet spot off of Thompson Road where there is a little pond.

It smelled like sulfur this morning.  Yuck.  Only I didn’t notice until the dogs were already in it and they didn’t seem to care.

Columbus loves to chase sticks but then gets to a point where he goes onto this little mini island.  He wouldn’t come off of it.  Even the word cookie didn’t draw him.  So I decided to do the leave-him-behind thing, making it seem that where Koda and I were going was very exciting.

I didn’t head back to the car, I headed down a trail that is pretty short, but gives the dogs a little bit of an adventure.  I kept calling Columbus and whistling (a big, fingers-in-my-hand, catch-your-attention kind of whistling.  Not soft-happy-song whistling).  He wasn’t coming.

Uh oh.

Koda and I turned around and went back to the pond.  I couldn’t see or hear him anywhere.  I kept calling, kept whistling.

Finally I figured we should head back to the car to see if he went that way.




I was trying to figure out what I would do if he wasn’t there.  Should I start honking the horn?  Does he even know what my car horn sounds like?  Should I drive up and down the street?  Should I go to the neighboring houses and let them know I lost a dog?  Should I stay there until he finally came and risk being late for work?  What if he jumped in someone’s car and was gone?

I kept thinking of Noni and how she lost Finn in the woods overnight.  My heart sank.  Drat these dogs.  Why did they want to run off?

Koda was sticking pretty close.  But near the end of the trail I could hear her head into the woods, stage right.  Then I saw it.  Columbus’s beautiful head.

He had headed back to the car.  Maybe he had some smarts, after all.

As I stepped onto the road there was a man with his truck, trying to figure out what was going on with this friendly, loose dog.  I explained the situation, told him he was young, thanked him profusely for stopping.  He said he was glad everything ended well.

Me, too, because the stories that were running through my head while Columbus was missing were the things nightmares are made of.

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