When I started this post last night, I was too sad to actually do more than write a title and quit. It was going to be called Vaya con Dios, Poquito. On Friday evening, Poquito took a page from his sister's (the Princess of Mayhem and General Naughtiness) book and take off.
Just before dinner, all the dogs wanted to go outside--so out they went. Because it has been so hot, less than five minutes later, the big furries wanted in. No sign of Poquito, but that's not unusual. He likes to stay outside in the heat. I waited about ten minutes and tried again. No Poquito. At that, I went out and looked. And looked, and looked, and looked. No Poquito anywhere! Not in the backyard, not in the front yard, not in the alley.
I got in the car and drove around to see if I could spot him. Do you have any idea how hard it is to spot a tiny little brown dog in amongst the houses, bushes, and trees? It's not like looking for Sitka or Juneau, who are hard enough to find as it is.
Needless to say, I had no luck in finding the little booger! I kept thinking he'd finally show up in a few hours, but by Saturday morning, I didn't think that was going to happen. After work on Saturday, I checked the Garland animal shelter. Lots of sweet babies there, but none of them were my baby. When I got home, I looked everywhere again, even in my closets just in case he had somehow, improbably, snuck in and gotten himself trapped.
We celebrated Sitka's "Gotcha Day" without him and by Sunday, I resigned myself to the unhappy fact that he was lost. I spent the day moping around the house and trying not to imagine the possible array of bad things that could have happened to him.
I went to bed around midnight and at three (which seems to be the magical hour for dogs returning home), Sitka woke me up. She was fussing at the back door, and I thought she needed to go out. When I got up, there was Poquito waiting to be let in.
Both big furries checked him out like he was new to them all over again. He ran to get a drink and I fed him. He is in perfect shape except that it looks as though he lost weight. When Juneau and Sitka were satisfied that he was still the same dog as before, and he'd eaten and drank, he curled up in my lap like nothing happened and went to sleep.
Someone is not going outside unsupervised anymore!