Well, I’m beginning to wonder if I should give up writing my fantasy and start a blog about my life as an epic failure. I’m sure it would be a lot more entertaining than my fiction.
The latest. So, I drove home the back way from the north. Lots of traffic mixed in with orchards and open fields for both agriculture and development. We’re on the literal edge of the city here. I saw no dog-bodies by the side of the road that fit Bella’s description. Relief.
     Marirose texted and suggested I go to our old neighborhood in an adjoining town to have a look around. Good idea, I thought. Our former home was but three to four miles down the road almost in a straight-shot, so it is possible that Bella might have headed for “home” once she’d scored freedom. Dogs do weird things like that. I doubted Bella would though. Sharp as a pin with a brain like a sponge, Bella has absolutely no “wisdom” or savvy when it comes to cars, directions or repeated instructions. Experience teaches her nothing. I just couldn’t imagine she’d figure out the way back home, but, there it is, got to turn over the stones.
     I ran into a few former neighbors, warned them about Bella’s escape. They, of course, offered to, “keep and eye out.”
     On the way back home, I stopped off at the Vet just around the corner on a whim.
     “I know it’s a shot in the dark, but have you seen a shepherd mix…?”
The receptionist looked at me with wide eyes and replied yes,
     “…just yesterday; a lady brought her in to have her scanned for a chip….”
Collar and all fit Bella’s description, but even as my heart soared, it plummeted like a rock when she said she’d not asked the lady her name. I could tell she was very sorry she hadn’t. I didn’t get too upset as I was so happy Bella was alive and pleased that someone, obviously in the neighborhood, had her and was thoughtful enough to bring her in for the scan. On the other hand, if I’d only had her chipped…or at least had her license tags on her walking-collar. Hindsight is 20/20, and it sucks. I left my name and number and headed home.
     The receptionist suggested Craigslist and, of course, the animal shelter boards. When I got home, I set up a “lost and found” and a “pets” post on Craigslist. I made a few poster-flyers, grabbed some business cards, put Callista on a leash and headed out. Even though it was dark and just about the end of the dinner hour, I figured I’d bump into some folk.
     I talked to a few people. One guy on the corner said that a man in a Ford Explorer, “…late 90s style…with a primer gray paint job…” had been up and down the street with a dog fitting Bella’s description in the seat next to him, asking folk if it was their dog. Sighting Two! Though he didn’t know the name of the guy or recognize the car, I was heartened. Alive and well. I left my address with the guy and moved on.
     The second guy I ran into had not seen Bella, but said he’d be on the watch for the gray Explorer and the dog. He told me of stray he’d just rescued and I felt good I’d run into him. I left him one of the poster-flyers I’d printed up.
     I took Callista home and printed up more poster-flyers, checked my email, checked shelter listings and headed back out to post the flyers on a few lamp posts along the street where the gray Explorer had driven.
     I got two responses from Craigslist, both from the same dog-lover, offering me advice on what to do for a lost pet. They were good suggestions, but the surge of hope and adrenaline to my heart when my iPhone pinged almost did me in.
     Today, Marirose is going to head to the shelter to put in a lost pet report. They only keep dogs without identification for four days before putting them up for adoption or euthanizing them. Fuck. Bella is very adoptable, so I’m thinking that if the couple (?) don’t keep her or adopt her out, Bella will end up on the adoption list. From there she’ll get snatched up–I’m sure of it. We have such a small window to work with and I’ve wasted the most precious time of it. I should have hit the Veterinarian’s right away—it seems so obvious now. I can only think I was so upset Sunday, I couldn’t think straight and honestly, hadn’t been thinking straight–it won’t happen to me–on the whole issue of tags and identification.      Dumb-ass.
     Suffice to say, no NaNoWriMo word were written yesterday afternoon.