Jack is Home!

After nearly two weeks, two weeks in which I called and looked and then began the slow sad descent into acceptance that he was most likely dead, Jack came home.

It was like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.

I had just got home from an evening at Grandmas and was locking up the chickens. My shirt was wet and cold because it had been pouring at her house and I hadn't thought to bring a rain jacket. Thunder was rolling off in the distance, and I just wanted to shut the chickens up and head back inside for a little quality time with my video games.

Except that when I turned around I saw my two kitties were lined up at the edge of the drive begging for dinner. So I petted them and reassured them that they were the best most fierce hunters in the whole world and began to follow them over to their dishes. It was about then that I saw something skirting the edge of the flash light beam.

My first thought was oh my god it's a bear I'm gonna die.

Followed by, I should have brought the gun and not died like an idiot.

Which was then followed by the shape stopping and looking back at me. I was smart enough to not shine the light directly into it's eyes and it was then that I realized it was Jack. I called to him and he took a few steps towards me that turned into a trot when he heard the far off thunder. He didn't seem to want to enter the flash light beam so I switched it off and stood in the near darkness and called to my dog.

Without thinking I went down on one knee and instantly Jack was their in my arms licking my face like he had thought he would never see me again. I didn't even think to grab his collar, I just held him to me and petted him and told him everything was going to be okay. Again without thinking I pulled off my belt and looped it though his collar and walked him back to the house.

Apparently Auto-pilot-Holly is an extremely efficient and well thought out person.

Unfortunately I can't seem to tap her at will and I am stuck with Kinda -doesn't-think-things-through-all-the-way-Holly.

But I digress.

I got Jack inside and called to Scott and he came running and got us a towel and got Jack some wet food and all I could do was hug my dog to me and repeat that he had come home over and over again until it really sunk home and I smelled like wet dog.

Then their was the flurry of calling and texting all the people that were worried about him and of course the farm sitter who was probably feeling kinda bad that the dog got loose on his watch even though these things happen in life but nobody could have predicted that he would have been gone so long.

But at least I have a dog to sleep at my feet again while I am typing.

He might be skinny and starved and covered in ticks but he's home now.

He's home.

No Sign of Jack.

Jack has not yet returned. So I find myself dogless. Which is not something I particularity enjoy. I feel like I had come to depend on having a dog. For emotional support and the whole barking when something is not right thing. However I don't want to rush out and get another dog when there is a possibility that Jack might come back.

The whole thing is kinda fucked up is what I'm saying.

I still feel like there is a possibly that Jack might return when he hits the desperately hungry stage. Also, I am beginning to suspect that the nice lady that runs the dog shelter might not be believing us anymore. You know that Razzle died from a snake bite a after we had her only a year, and now I am claiming the poorly socialized dog we adopted ran off after we had him for less then three months.

Look, I'm not saying that she believes we are running some sort of dog sacrificing cult, but the evidence is not in our favor here.

Of course all this would be moot if Jack would just get it through his think skull to home to that land of napping on blankets and getting wet food every afternoon. I miss my little doggy boy. Sure he might have been paranoid that everything was out to get him, all the time, and he might have been just a touch fearful of all people, all the time who weren't me, but dammit he was my paranoid fearful emotion train wreck of a dog and I want him back.

I miss having him sleeping at my feet while I am on the internet, I miss the way he would be frantic during storms unless I read to him, and I miss out daily walks where we would explore the woods together and when we totally reenacted the scene from Calvin and Hobbes where they find the snake and run around in circles except this was a nest of bees that didn't want to hurt us but still scared the shit out of us anyway.

Maybe it was the fact that Jack was an older dog with signs of having an emotionally abused past, but when we would go for walks or he would be hanging out with me I got the impression he was doing this less because it was what was expected of him and more because he had decided he enjoyed these things.

Let me explain.

Razzle was a younger dog, maybe a year old, and our relationship reflected that. I was Razzle's parent. I had to lay down the laws and make sure they were enforced, I had to stop her from testing my rules and I had to make her understand why doing certain things was good and others were bad. But with Jack, I got the impression that him and I were friends. Except for a few things, like sitting before going out and taking baths, Jack acted more like an adult human roommate.

Except I never could get him to pay rent.

He would eat his meals in his room, but when he spent time with you, it wasn't because you were the much loved parent who-must-not-be-let-out-of-your-sights-lest-she-disappear, and more the sense that he thought what you and he were doing was an enjoyable activity.

So I dunno. It's hard to imagine that Jack's natural aversion to people will cause him to wash up on our doorstep once he fails to find a kibble dispensing tree, but I am still hoping.

Hang in there little guy.

Hang in there.