LOST - Answers to "Buckley"

Before I go any further, I should tell you that he is home, safe and sound.

But that certainly wasn't the case this past Thursday night when we got home.

Buckley has always been an indoor / outdoor dawg. We usually leave the dawg door open 24 / 7 and let him roam as he pleases. Of course, with the addition of the sliding glass door, the dawg door is gone and we have not had the chance to put in a new one. So when we are not home, we either have to lock him in or out (leaving the sliding glass door open all day while we are gone doesn't seem like a great idea . . .).

It hasn't really been a problem since either the wife or I have been home everyday since Annabelle was born. But this past Thursday was the first day that we both went to work and had to lock the dawg outside all day. We have locked him in the back yard all day many times before but it has been 5 months since the last time and I was a little nervous about it.

Add to that fact that the Beezer DOES NOT enjoy being outside after sundown. Whenever that is the case, he usually tries to escape through the gate on the side of the house (I think he is coming to look for us - wondering why we aren't home).

So Thursday morning, I wrapped the gate in two chains, piled two cinder blocks against it as door stops and then stacked two 20 lb bags of gravel on top of those. That's two chains and about 50 lbs of concrete in case you are keeping track . . . .

We got home a little later than usual and I did not see the dawg at the gate . . . "No matter, sometimes he waits at the slider . . ." I told myself . . .

I walked through the house and opened the slider . . . no dawg . . . . "Buckley!" I called . . .

Nothing.

A knot started forming in my stomach and I descended the stairs from the deck to the yard . . . .

My mind began to race . . .

"Maybe he ate something poisonous and is lying sick under a bush . . . . . That's silly, we don't have poisonous plants for that very reason . . . . maybe a neighbor poisoned him and he is curled up in a ball under the deck . . . . DON'T BE INSANE none of our neighbors would do such a thing . . . ."

I finished my sweep of the yard and realized . . . we have a BIG problem . . .

I ran out front and called his name over and over . . . .

Silence . . . .

A lump started to form in my throat . . .

"I think Buckley is lost . . ." I called to the wife . . . "oh no!" she cried . . .

"You take care of the baby, I will go after Buckley . . . ."

I was already changed into some sweats and was pulling on my running shoes . . .

"Honey, check your voice mail - maybe someone found him . . ."

Brilliant! I grabbed my cel phone in one hand and my flashlight in another and headed to the backyard to do one final check . . . . punching the buttons on the phone as I went . . .

Sure enough, "Steve" had called about a lost dawg and left his phone number.

I dialed him right away and confirmed the Dawg was mine. I mapquested his house and went racing over.

Mapquest sent me on the shortest distance between his house and mine - over 2 miles . . . . along arterial streets and across a freeway . . . . "How long has he been out there? I know he must have circled and circled . . . he must have travelled at least twice that distance . . . ."

When I pulled up to the house, a couple of gentlemen and a couple of children were standing out front with my best four-legged friend. As soon as Buckley saw the car, he started to go bonkers with joy.

It turns out, the kids had been playing in their garage when Buckley walked right in around 6pm. They gave him a bowl of water and he drank the whole thing. And then another. And then another. I think he had been out there so long and was so tired and thirsty that he decided to throw himself at the mercy of strangers . . .

"You don't understand . . . ." I told Steve, "This is the BEST dawg in the whole world!"

"I was starting to get that impression when he did everything I commanded . . 'sit' . . .'lie down' . . .'shake' . . . we were thinking that if we couldn't find the owner we might just keep him . . . ."

We chatted for a while more and then the dawg and I loaded up and drove home.

Buckley laid on his dawggie bed and fell asleep instantly. He didn't wake up until the following morning . . . .

Buckley is truly a "man's-best-friend" sort of dawg and I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to him . . .

Buckley has a girlfriend (a yellow lab named Jessie) over at the TKA where Annabelle is going twice a week. They have graciously suggested that we drop off Buckley for the day whenever we drop off Annabelle. That way, he isn't home alone as much . . . .

Boy oh boy . . . what a scare . . .