She brought Shelby the collie home, then went back after him.
I woke up from a nap to find that she had even taken her Jeep up the Forest Service road looking for him.
I drove around too. We walked the neighborhood and the forest edges, calling and blowing his "come" command on the whistle.
Every dog on our road was riled up, but no Fisher.
- Probability one: He found something very good to eat.
- Probability two: He found a mountain lion.
Sunset came. Shelby, meanwhile, curled up on her bed on the veranda with an attitude that said, "Not my problem. I'm the good dog."
Four hours after he first ran off, he came back down the trail from the national forest boundary.
He was very thirsty. He smelled of meat. He is a skinny dog, but now he had a paunch.
He went to bed.
But now it's dog-dinner time, and he is standing in the kitchen. He does not look completely at ease. I expect that we will be awakened tonight by dog-barfing.
There went the whole afternoon when we should have been editing and proof-reading. But today, Fisher was an authentic dog.
UPDATE, Jan. 13: Amazing—no barfing in the night.