The Little Bear Dog Blog

To this day I have no idea how her collar broke . One minute I was guiding her from the car park to the field, the next she was panicking, writhing around at the end of her lead, eyes wide, tail tucked, scanning the strange surroundings like a cornered fugitive – heart thumping I forced myself to try to stay calm, I crouched down, avoided eye contact, spoke softly, moved slowly but it was futile – seconds later the lead, with collar, snapped open and still attached was hanging limp in my hand.

She headed first for the car park and the locked car. I cursed myself for not getting the keys from OH before he left – maybe if I could have opened the door she might have chosen to hide instead of run.  Before I could get near her she whipped past me and took off up the path beside the field running at full speed.

A man appeared at the end walking his dog – now frantic I screamed for him to try to stop her before she got to the end of the path and the road. It took him a few precious seconds to comprehend what was happening and in that time the moment was lost – she was past him and out onto the road.

By some miracle she avoided the cars on the roundabout. Yes, we’re technically a village but a busy one.  By the time I caught up seconds later she’d turned left – cars were stopped both sides of the road and people were scrambling out of them, trying admirably to catch her.  Seeing her lose control of her bowels in the middle of the road was horrendous – I’ve never seen a dog look so terrified in my life.  More people streamed out of the nearby running field, another popular haunt for dog walkers, but she turned, retraced her steps and continued her sprint down the main road.

I took off after her and cursed myself for letting a dodgy knee stop my running training. She was already out of sight and my desperation was escalating to all out panic.

As I ran a car pulled up level to me and a man shouted ‘Get in!’ Without a moment’s hesitation I did and found myself tucked next to a sleeping newborn baby in a car seat and saying hurried hellos to his wife in the front seat. Mick (my good Samaritan) dropped me at the copse at the end of the road and promised to drive around looking for her.

All I could think about was how terrified and how far from home she was. It was all my fault. I’d promised her safety and love and minutes later, here she was lost and alone. A wave of nausea hit me that would stay with me for the next 44 hours.

The kindness of strangers

I called the police and the dog warden, I made all of the reports necessary and we searched every lane, field and bridleway. At around 9pm I got a call to say she’d been spotted at a horse yard about two miles from where she went missing. We dashed over there only to find the field full of complete strangers. Mick, my good Samaritan with the car was tramping through the fields while his wife sat serenely in the car feeding their little one.  The man from the park (Andy) who hadn’t been able to stop her initial bolt was there having swapped his dog for a high-powered torch. There were others too – a lady called Claire who worked for the council and her colleague, another chap called Neil and Judith, a friend of a friend with Labs of her own. All of these people were complete strangers and yet here they were, in a field, in the dark looking for my dog – they searched with us until after midnight.

Other Half knocked on the doors of those houses backing onto the field in the hope that she had somehow gone from the field into someone’s garden. Despite the late hour people opened their doors, checked their gardens and offered their help – one lady, even though she was in her dressing gown offered to introduce us to her neighbour who volunteered with the charity Dogs Lost. Needless to say he promised to go back in the morning!

We returned the next morning with home-made flyers asking people to check their gardens and sheds and then went to see Carole, the local co-ordinator for Dogs Lost. Within minutes of knocking on her door we had our missing charge on the website and posters made. Within 2 hours the whole village was covered in them.

We searched all day. FD’s previous owners arrived with one of their other dogs in the hope that the familiar faces and scents would tempt her out of hiding. Everywhere we went people wanted to help. Three young boys who couldn’t have been more than nine stopped me to ask how they could help. Between them they decided that a Facebook group, regular postings on Twitter and an email to all of their local friends would be a good plan.  I was also quizzed on her favourite food and they earnestly suggested that treats might be a good idea. They were so sweet and genuine I could have cried, had there been any tears left by that point.

People called and left messages on my voice mail saying that they’d checked their gardens and told their friends to look out for her and wished us luck in finding her. My friends church group prayed for her – a fact that even though I’m not religious makes me well up just thinking about it.

When we collapsed into bed at around 2am on Saturday morning I was too numb to think. But I still had the overwhelming feeling that she was alive.  The news that came a few hours later would test my faith in that intuition.