|From September 2011|
Today, he declared he'd had enough of being the one who no one notices!
For the record, WE notice him. WE love him, but come on, blog-worthy antics? Almost never.
Well, now. Like I said, he decided to bring himself to the forefront of our story.
We ran to the book store and the bank and were gone approximately an hour. We were excited to come home to simmering homemade tomato soup and delicious bread.
We typically shut Jonah (the dog) down in the basement in our absence because Mr. Rescue Dog has an affinity for trash-rooting and bed-laying, two things which we do not take kindly to.
So, I saunter on down to let him up so he can wag his tail and wait patiently for Ezra and Oliver to drop delectable bits to his level.
I had left the backdoor open for him to do his typical afternoon doody/duty while we were gone. On a normal day, the backyard is a perfectly respectable place for him to chill.
Well, as I was walking around, he was NO WHERE. I saw that the back gate had been left just slightly ajar.
I stood staring, dumbfounded. Jonah has been in our family for two years, and even when I've left the gate WIDE open before (yes, of course it's happened) he's never come close to wandering away.
I was... to be clear... confused.
He'd gone, that much was clear. But um, why? And where to?
So, we left our dinner to simmer and our bread to crustify, and went in search of our long-lost-puppy-pants.
Our across-the-street neighbor whom we've never met was out doing yard work. We approached and asked. He had INDEED seen our stupid dog wandering and suggested we hit the vet up the street, see if they've had someone drop him there. We headed over.
No, they did not have him, and why oh why haven't we changed over his microchip to our information?
Um, not remotely helpful right this minute.
They did help by giving us the name and number of an Office V...something, I'll call him Officer V, who is in charge of code enforcement. He apparently is the ONE to call when one's doggie has gone missing.
So, I called him, feeling stupid. It's been an hour. There is no way he's been caught. He's off chasing cats and hasn't even realized it's time to come HOME.
I left a message.
Office V called me back with a phone number, and wished me good luck.
I called the number.
A kid name Cale (okay, I changed his name) answered.
"Mottled color? Blue collar? Sweetest dog in the world? Yup. I've got him."
So, we raced up the hill (exactly three blocks from our house) and found Jonah happy as a clam.
"He didn't look underfed... but I gave him food and water anyway," Cale explained.
"Thank you! Where was he?" I asked.
"Standing in the middle of that street," he pointed through the trees to a much-busier-than-I-would-like street. I sighed, "Stupid dog," I repeated.
It turns out Cale had brought him home but didn't know what to do with a dog with a collar but no tags, so he asked a neighbor who then gave him Officer V's number. He called Officer V and said, "If anyone calls about their dog, I've got him." According to Officer V, this was five minutes before we called him.
Thank goodness for kind neighbors, nice Officers and helpful Vet offices.
Because everyone was very distraught. Henry was in tears at the thought of his lost dog.
And Spencer? When we pulled into the Vet's parking lot asked, "Are we here to get a new dog?"
Then we got home, Spencer asked, "Is this REALLY Jonah?"
Oh.my.gosh. He was gone for AN HOUR.