Ack!
by Zia ~ October 16th, 2006. Filed under: Pets.I was making soap this evening when I realized that my furry little wartbomb wasn’t under my feet as usual. I looked for him inside. No Harry. I looked for him outside. No Harry. I walked the entire neighborhood and alley with a 10-pound flashlight. I even scoured the alley, and his favorite kitty poop buffet sites.
No Harry.
I was frantic. This is, after all, Harry. The one who doesn’t see very well, walk very well, or do without his medication very well. “What if he’s been run over?” I asked Steve tremulously. “What if he’s dead?”
Steve heaved a big sigh, got up, and retrieved the car keys. We drove around the block in second gear, with Steve at the wheel and me hanging out the window calling Harry’s name. Finally, Steve turned down the alley. The back light was on three houses up from ours, illuminating an empty, overturned garbage can. And there he was, just standing there.
“Harry!” I exclaimed. Steve slammed on the breaks and I rushed out. His tail was droopy; he was shivering. He was terrified, but Steve only laughed. “There’s the runaway,” he cracked. “Far, far away from home.”
October 17th, 2006 at 5:54 am
Oh, man, my heart stopped. So glad you found him safe and sound. Angus ran away when we were in Seattle — without his collar or tags — the night that the entire eastern side of the city lost power, so here we were, screaming his name up street and down avenue in the pitch-blackest night you can imagine. Never did find him that night, and spent the rest of the small hours sobbing. Thankfully, he turned up the next morning — across the street. A woman who trained dogs professionally had found him, presumed he was a stray pitbull puppy, and given him a bath!