Half asleep I made my way to the kitchen for my eye-opener cup of joe. My quarters are separated from the main part of the house by a small porch where the dog usually sleeps. I noticed that he was not there, but there is a large back yard for him to roam in and thought no more about it. My trip for a second cup was the same. Catherine had left early to help with a garage sale for the Sweet Adelines, her singing sisters. With my eyes unglued I fixed myself a modest breakfast of toast slathered with a generous layer of cream cheese, hoping it would substitute for my usual eggs. After breakfast I still didn’t see the dog. Sometimes he lay at a door at the side of the house, so I checked there and noticed the gate was open, but no dog was in sight. I didn’t know why the gate was open but I guessed he was exploring the neighborhood and would return shortly. I expected Catherine to stop by the house on her way to work but she didn’t so I called her workplace.

“Hello. Earthly Treasures,” a sweet voice responded.

“Hi, my Treasure.”

“Oh, hello Daddyo, did you get your breakfast?”

“I did. I thought I should report that your dog’s gone. I haven’t seen him today and I found the gate open. He was here last night when I gave him his supper.”

“I’m going to put a note on the door and come and look for him. Gloria is coming in at noon.”

She arrived home shortly through the open gate asking, “Why is the gate open so wide?”

“No idea why it’s open at all.”

Catherine got out her bicycle and optimistically a leash to tour the neighborhood. She soon came back and took her car for a wider look. She handed out cards with her name and phone number to those she met. Someone she saw suggested that that somebody saw him out loose and may have picked him up. She came back empty-handed.

The dog she was looking for, called Foxy or Buddy, is a Sheltie, bred to corral sheep. He loves to run. When he’s glad to see someone he runs in tiny circles; he becomes a spinning top. He’s a pretty little dog and very friendly toward everyone and loves being petted. He had been with us for about four months and we’re very fond of him despite his strange habit of trying to chase away the monster that has the voice of thunder. He races with his tail raised as a flag from corner to corner of the yard in full voice in competition with the voice of the monster.

While Catherine was gone I inspected the open gate. It was open wide enough that a horse could easily walk through. I also noticed that a cinder block was moved to a position that interfered with the gate being closed. Ah, I was sure the dog had been stolen. In my mind I could see a thief luring the dog out through the open gate. What dog could resist a hand holding a piece of fresh meat?

“No dog?” I asked as she returned empty handed.

“I gave everyone I met my card with my cell phone number in case someone sees him.”

“I think he was stolen,” I said. Catherine tended to agree but didn’t want to believe it. She got on her computer and alerted all those she could think of. That kept her busy for the afternoon. She spent the evening making posters with a color picture of the dog headed by LOST DOG and her phone number at the bottom.

She was up early Sunday morning posting the notices on parking lot stop signs, on church windows and in the neighborhood from which she’d had a Saturday call from a woman claiming to have seen the dog in her yard.

We had a late breakfast, intending to go to church soon when the phone rang. Catherine answered. A woman’s voice said, “I’ve got your dog.” Catherine nearly fell out of her chair. The call came from just across the street from us, a small church where one of the notices had been posted an hour before.

We went to the church where we met Lacy who told us the dog was at her home with her own two dogs. After her church service was done we went to Lacy’s house in the same neighborhood as the Saturday caller’s, and met Foxy who seemed to be enjoying his visit immensely.

“I woke up at about four o’clock Saturday morning and couldn’t go back to sleep,” said Lacy who was pregnant, “so I went to the Exxon station to get something and saw your dog there looking lost. A man was there and wanted to take him home as his own. The dog came to me and I told the man that I would take the dog and find his owner. So I brought him home with me. My boys have enjoyed playing with him.”

“Thank you oh so much. I really appreciate your help,” said Catherine when we finally headed home.

It’s amazing how much territory a dog can explore in a few hours. Foxy was lucky to have chosen the middle of the night to travel a mile from home. He crossed two major streets when traffic was minimum.

Catherine spent the rest of Sunday retrieving the twenty-odd posters she had spent most of the morning posting. I was glad that I was wrong about the stealing thought. With the dog safely home we were able to relax from two stressful days. A mystery remains however; how in the world did the dog get that gate open.