Shay vanished while Ken was with him on the hill in the woods today. Ken turned his back, and the dog, who had been following a scent in the undergrowth with great interest, disappeared. That was a little after noon. A little over eight hours later, we have done all we can think of: consulting with the sheriff, the Humane Society, and an animal psychic; talking to and phoning neighbors; walking the hills and fields multiple times; driving up and down country lanes into all the crevices surrounding this area; and calling out “Shaaaaaayyyyy!!!!!” hundreds of time. I’ve even stood before a stand of cedars, and spoke to them for guidance.
Living in the country is adventurous (read: dangerous) for animals. Things can happen. Coyotes can take away a beloved cat (as has happened two to three times). Animals can go feral (been there, done that too). All manner of ticks can hitchhike in the deep fur of the dog. We’ve seen a lot and mourned a lot over these years. Yet there’s also great space to run, explore and live a dog’s life to the fullest.
Now I’m hoping that dog will soon return and live such a life. In the meantime, I