A Word From The Bean

This weekend is the seventh anniversary of the incident that we now jokingly refer to around here as "Lola's Night Out."

At the time, there was absolutely nothing funny about it.  In fact, it was one of the worst nights of my life.  In her defense, I don't think it was a cake walk for her, either.

On that night, just one month short of her first birthday, Finn, Lola and I went out to potty before bed.  It was dark and quiet and deserted and I was with them, so they were not on their leashes (my first mistake).  A couple of minutes after we got out there, the local 4th of July fireworks show started (which just so happened to be near our house) and Lola (whose terror of loud noises was not yet known) bolted.  I turned to see her running down the sidewalk toward the house and I thought that's where she was going.

No.

She ran.  And I didn't see her again that night.

I was up all night looking for her, calling for her.  Finn and I walked the neighborhood repeatedly because I thought if she heard him, she'd come to him.  She was more attached to him than me, anyway, back in those days. 

But we could not find her.  Finally, at around 2 a.m., I called it a night.  I thought one of two things would happen:  She would be picked up and stolen or I would find her dead on the road the next morning.   I had failed her and my heart was broken.  I prayed and I put her in God's hands. 

The next morning (Saturday) I was up as soon as it was light, looking for her.  I made flyers and took them around to the grocery stores and banks.  I drove around.  I made a plan to call every veterinarian's office in Charlotte in case she was brought in.   I was a mess.   I should say that many darling friends helped me look for her, for which I am eternally grateful. 

Then I came in from looking and checked my messages at around 11.  A message I will never forget....

"Hi.  I've got your little black dog here.  She was hiding behind the garbage cans in my back yard.  Please call me."

I am crying just thinking about it.

She had run and run that night.  Almost a mile.  Because God's hand was on her, she did not get hit by a car, but somehow managed to squeeze through the hedges into some kind person's backyard.  And she stayed there.  Again, because God's hand was on her and maybe even me.   I have repeatedly thanked Him for this, on my hands and knees. 

The point of this story is that in addition to God,  Lola came home because of one simple thing:  She was wearing her collar, with her identification tag and my phone number.  Because no matter how safe she was or how kind the person who found her, she couldn't tell him her phone number.  I am also eternally grateful for that little heart shaped tag. 

Since that night, I have found one little wandering dachshund (an escapee from the patio) who went home immediately, because he was wearing his collar and a tag with his owner's telephone number.

I have also found one little chihuahua, picked up from the middle of the road, who was on his way to animal control because although he had a collar, he had no tag.  I took him to my vet's office to see if he was chipped (no dice) and they told me to call animal control because that's where any inquiry would be directed when his owner started looking for him.  Turns out Scooter (that was his name) was saved because our office's mailman ran into Scooter's owner (who was out looking for him in the neighborhood) and directed said owner to our office (where Scooter was waiting for animal control to come get him).  Scooter would have been immediately returned if he had just been wearing a tag.

Then the other night, I was out walking the Beans and one of my neighbors was trying to find the owner of a little Yorkie, which he had found wandering our neighborhood.  He (or she) was wearing a collar, but no tag.

If you are a pet owner or are reading this, please get I.D. tags for your pets.  They don't cost much and this very simple thing could make all the difference if your pet should go missing.

The fact is that they run, leashes break (Scooter's case), they slip out, sneak through, the door is left cracked or the back gate doesn't get quite shut and they're gone.  Things happen.  Don't loose your love when there is such a simple and inexpensive solution.