little dog lost (and found)

Two nights ago, I was settling in for an evening of knitting and lattes with a couple of good friends, when my cell phone rang. It was my spouse calling. "Lucy got out."

My heart sank. Lucy is only ten months old, very friendly, absolutely fearless and with no street smarts whatsoever. And we live on a very busy corner.

Within minutes, my friend D. and I had packed up and collected our other friend who had yet to arrive at the coffee shop. They both insisted on coming home with me to look for my dog. I tried to suggest to them that it wasn't necessary but I am very glad that neither of them would listen to me.

We arrived at my house about fifteen minutes later, in a blinding snow storm, with the temperature dropping rapidly. On the drive home, I had felt anxious and queasy, hoping desperately not to see Lucy's little body in the street.

My neighbour, who was out shovelling, insisted on joining in the search. My spouse was already in our car, checking out the local dog parks. My neighbour hopped in his vehicle to help comb the neighbourhood streets. He's a good man.

The rest is a blur. I know that my friend D. went to speak with my oldest son, who was extremely worried. My friend K. offered to call the Humane Society, so that I could go look for my dog. I pretty much launched myself into the street, bellowing her name.

I wasn't out for five minutes when two young women called out from across the street, "Ma'am, have you lost your dog?" I waited what felt like hours for the light to change so I could go and talk to them. When I described Lucy, they nodded emphatically. Two of their room-mates had picked her up (on the sidewalk of the busy street) and taken her home. Since she wasn't wearing a tag (we are such procrastinators and let the fact that she is micro-chipped lull us into a false sense of security), they had called animal control, and they, in turn, had taken her to the Humane Society.

I was so relieved. And grateful. I was in too much shock to remember where they lived or to get there names. But I am so thankful that they did what they did.

My two friends and I drove to the Humane Society (still in a blinding snow storm). It was closed but we circled the building and pounded on every door before driving back home. I did manage to call the bylaw officers to confirm that a dog matching Lucy's description had been taken to the Humane Society. And, thanks to my friend K., I spoke to someone at the Humane Society who told me that Lucy would be warm and safe until we came to collect her in the morning.

Back at my house, many of us cried tears of relief.

We bailed the dog out of jail the next morning, none the worse for her adventures. She was very, very happy to see us and very, very tired. There is no evidence, however, that her brush with the law has set her back on the straight and narrow.

Some interesting things I learned and observed during this adventure, listed randomly:

1-I have the best friends anyone could ever hope to have. I aspire to deserve them.

2-There are many good people in the world. So many people helped to save our dog and calm our fears.

3-Every dog should have a tag on with the owner's phone number whenever she goes outside.

4-Tibetan Terriers are nimble and they can jump. We have not yet figured out how she escaped but I think we need to clear all the snow away from our fences. And we can't leave Lucy in the yard without supervision. As the temperatures have plunged (down to -39C with the windchill), this is a challenge.

5-I am a mother to my very core. I was worried about the dog for my own sake (I love the little brat) but I was especially concerned for the sake of my kids (especially my oldest, who loves the dogs as much as I do).

6-Apparently, even bundled in winter gear from head to toe, I am now obviously old enough to be called, "Ma'am."