I met some of my neighbors this evening while I was combing the area, just after dark, on a quest to find my vanishing Dogdini, Joey. As I cruised down the narrow country roads, I spotted a group of men standing outside chatting, so I stopped to show them Joey's picture and asked them to keep an eye out for my errant dog. Then with no hopes of finding him before bed, I headed home.
"I didn't do anything...it was the cat!"
It wasn't fifteen minutes later when a giant truck pulled into my driveway with Joey riding in the front seat. It was deja vu all over again. It's been a while since I've had to organize search parties to find Joey, but I certainly haven't forgotten the process.
I once got a phone call from a neighbor telling me there was something that looked suspiciously like a reindeer running around on my roof.
“A reindeer?” I asked.
"A reindeer."
Well, minus the antlers. Apparently there was a random refugee from Christmas town running from the front of the house to the rear and then back again. On the roof. Presumably looking for the chimney. I didn’t pay much attention to the call (I figured Mrs. Jones had been dipping into the spiced rum a little early) until about an hour later when I noticed that my dog was missing.
It suddenly dawned on me that in the dusky light of evening, my little pitbull mix could pass for one of Santa’s reindeer missing its horns. So I ran outside like a flash, and looked up at the roofline of my house. There, like Dasher without his sleigh was my little Joey, scampering around with a stick in his mouth—undoubtedly something he pulled out of one of the gutters.
I shouted for him to "SIT!" and hauled ass up the stairs to my daughter's room where I discovered an open window (minus the screen) where Joey had obviously gone out. I leaned out of the window and called until he came trotting to the window and climbed in, tail wagging a mile a minute.
Joey has always had a knack for disappearing. There was one night in particular when one of the girls heard him crying, but couldn’t find him. She looked in the closets to see if he’d been locked in. She looked outside her bedroom door to see if he was waiting to be let in. She looked in her sister’s room, to see if he was trying to get out. But he was nowhere to be found, so she went back to bed. After a few more minutes she heard him cry again, and thought the sound was coming from her bathroom, so she opened the door, but he wasn’t in the bathroom.
He was outside the bathroom window. On the second story roof yet again. Somehow he was trapped on the roof. How long he was out there is anybody’s guess.
So that brings us to tonight. Runaway Joe is sleeping soundly in the living room, exhausted after his latest, unsanctioned, adventure. I seriously need to get JoJack on that dog.
Until the next time...I'll be sleeping soundly now that he's found.