It stormed last night. Rain, wind, thunder, lightning, the whole 9
yards. At about 1 in the morning my daughter got a phone call from two
of her friends. They'd seen two dogs running down the road and had
managed to coax one of them into the truck. The other bolted.
The girl's parents won't have animals in the house, the boy has serious
allergies and was already wheezing just being in the vehicle with the
dog. So, naturally, they called my daughter. She woke me up, asked
permission to have them bring the dog here.
He spent the night in Zane's crate and at 8 am my daughter called the
number listed on his rabies tag, read them the ID number and they told
her they'd call the owner and give her our phone number.
5 minutes later the phone rang. It was Frankie's mom. They'd been out
driving around all night, looking for their dogs. She inquired
hopefully if we might also have the other one, Pirate. Nope. But my
daughter called her friend and confirmed that the pair of them had been
together last night but they were unable to catch the other one, and
told her his last seen location. They were miles from home.
A few minutes later the doorbell rang and Frankie went home. A happy
ending, but I can't stop thinking about Pirate.