Alive

Maggie is still kicking.

I received a call this morning from the Animal Adoption Center. A man saw a schnauzer running down the Lane, towards town. This means she probably traveled through the underpass. Again. I notified everyone, throw some leggings on, and head to town. 

Parking by the underpass, I walk down the Lane, up to the quick stop, and back to my car by the underpass. No Maggie. I make my usual rounds, a couple of times, by the mountain. I stop by the Animal Shelter to pick up new fliers and a live trap. 

Tonight I’m reading, trying to stay off my iPad so I’m not constantly checking for updates. I’m trying to adjust to what could become the new normal, and not being very successful. Even George W is depressed. He licks me and then bites me. Freaking cat. 

I get a text message: “Hello! I saw the post on PAWS Instagram a few days ago about your lost dog. My dad just told me he saw the same dog by AutoTech and the UPS today evening. He tried to catch her but she kept running away. If he sees her again he’ll contact you.”

“She was there all day. The first he saw her was around 9am then at 3pm.”

Oh Maggie Rose, I’ve aged ten years. Please come home. I searched on foot for you today in this very area. We may need to have Dr. A check your hearing, when you come home. And your nose. What’s up with that, MR? I still smell like me. I love you silly puppy.