On Monday the 26th at about 10pm, Colin bashed on the patio door, whining and whimpering. He had been missing for ten days, was cold and scared and absolutely filthy. I was asleep at the time because I was ill and jumped out of my skin as the parents screamed with glee. After a warm bath (which he hated), a bowl of dog food and some running around all excitedly remembering who everyone was, Colin curled up into a ball and fell asleep.
We’d been looking and calling for Colin for days. We went around the five nearby villages searching for him. We put up posters all over and asked the local dog pounds to look out for him. After all, Colin has a chip and a fancy black, studded collar. No idea where that collar is, mind you. It’s probably in the same tree where our cats Mog and Ringo lost all their collars.
Once we put posters up, we got several calls. The first was about a beagle who had been run over on a main road, but it turned out to be a different dog. Poor thing.
A second call followed, saying they’d seen a beagle running around in a village about 7-10km away, near the main road where the other dog had died. They’d only seen him though, and after much searching, we came up with nothing.
We then got another call from someone who worked at a dog charity/pound, saying they’d seen a beagle be brought in at lunch time – they’d just got home and seen our post on Facebook. We called the dog pound and they were very unhelpful, but the lovely woman met up with mum and sister. Sadly it was a female beagle who happened to look similar.
We had a couple of other people calling about sightings, but nothing conclusive, and no one had caught him.
Our hope dwindled when we got a call on the 23rd, someone in the aforementioned village saying they’d seen a beagle running around. When we got down there though, the dog had escaped. We showed the guy a picture, but he said the dog wasn’t white like Colin was in the picture.
After that, we heard no more about him. No more calls, nothing. Christmas day was a bit sad as we came across Colin’s unopened presents under the tree. Boxing day was the same, up until 10pm.
This was pretty much a Smissmas miracle. I’m not a believer in miracles, I’m just glad he’s home, but there’s definitely something lovely about a missing dog returning home on a holiday of all times.
Goodness knows where Colin went. He’d escaped our garden, chasing after a stray female dog who was in heat and we couldn’t find where he went. He probably was all the way in that village, they haven’t seen a beagle since. But who knows what sort of adventures Colin had, in the cold and the rain. Maybe one day I’ll make up a silly little story about it.
Colin is now safe and sound at home. He’s lost a little weight and has scratched his nose a bit from excessive sniffing, but he’s perfectly safe and healthy.