Tomorrow marks the official beginning of winter. Of late, the weather has made people around here wonder about the existence of global warming.
For the last three winters, there have been lots of cold and snow. Two years ago at this time, there were back-to-back blizzards. When the second one hit, I went out to get Tipper, who yipped to come inside. I thought there was so much snow that the dog would come in without being walked on a leash. She made it the twenty-five feet to the back door when off she went, my senior dog fleeing at top speed into the night.
The driveways were buried in snow. The only usable vehicle was our truck. I was more than a little scared of spinning out or getting stuck, as I was only a year and a half out of my total hip replacement. I didn’t want to have to hike for help. Nevertheless, I got in the truck to drive around the neighborhood in almost whiteout conditions.
I returned home with no dog and a massive anxiety attack. With all the growling I do about dogs off leash, my own dog was a runaway. I wasn’t worried about my dog doing any damage. I worried about someone finding a beautiful Husky in all her winter glory and keeping her. I never have understood why people steal dogs. I would go nuts if that happened, which is why our dog pen and corral are locked. I also wasn’t worried about Tipper being hit by a car. I was the only idiot on the road.
Admitting defeat at finding our pup, I called animal control to inform them about the situation. Tipper has tags and an ID chip. I was told that there wasn’t much chance of her getting busted in this weather, and because I called, she would be returned to me if found.
While still on the phone, out of the corner of my eye I saw a streak of silver zooming by the kitchen window. There was the Wonder Husky returning home. She had gone around several blocks, a wide circle of streets, returning home with a big grin on her face.
The next two days showed that a ten-year-old dog shouldn’t escape to run full speed at-large. Tipper spent those days sacked out on her plush dog bed inside her crate. I had to hold a mirror under her nose to see if she was alive. Her blizzard road trip was finished. I laughed at the way Tipper looked at me when she returned, breathing hard, her face covered with snow, and her crystal-blue eyes bright as if to say, “Boy, that sure was fun!”